Putting the Pieces back Together
by HepburnJunkie22
Summary: Picking up the pieces after something devastating isn't always easy, but it makes it that much harder when you have children that are hurting.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first story, so please be kind...constructive criticism is always appreciated :) We will see Sharon in the next chapter, I just had to set this up first...**

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><p>Los Angeles in February always seemed so listless and lifeless, the vibrant colors of the bustling city muted by winter. Not my favorite time of the year but in all honesty it was immensely better than the hundred-degree weather of the summer months. The air crisp, cleansed from the soft drizzle ruining my hard work on my hair, while I struggled not to slip walking up the steps to my home. Ushering my key into the lock I glance at the drive way and no gold Crown Victoria is in sight.<p>

_ Well, I guess she'll be later than she thought, _I think to myself and let a strained sigh slip through my lips; and as if on cue my phone dings. I reach automatically into my coat pocket, the glowing screen shows me just what I expect, an apology and a promise to be home by dinner…

I brace my self against the door as it slowly swings shut, its solid enough to hold up my battered body…for now anyway. What was I thinking taking on this kind of load this semester? Aren't I only a sophomore, just a baby practically? The bag falls from my shoulder and lands with a thump in front of the hall closet, I debate on leaving it right where it is.

_ She'll yell at me later for it_, I consider, but at that moment I'm too tired to care.

So begins my daily routine, as I hobble down the hallway all the layers I had donned earlier that day to keep me warm are shed and left where they fall. Down to just my jeans and flannel long sleeved tee, I pad up the staircase and come to a stop on the landing.

I stare down the hallway towards the large bay window, complete with an enormous window seat. Its days like these that you would find me in that very spot listening to the rain, curled up with a good book. As I slowly make my way down the hallway, my feet silent on the plush carpet, I run my fingers just under the line of photos decorating the warm walls. Each one holds a specific memory, some happier then the rest, but all just as important as the next. One captures my attention specifically, it's the photo taken just a few years ago of all three of us…our clothes pristine and pressed, hair coiffed just so, the picture perfect family. Although what the photographer had failed to notice was the haunted looks in our eyes or the way our smiles were forced, almost painful.

My hand continues on its journey and suddenly comes into to contact with the smooth, rich paneling of a bedroom door, so polished I can see my tired reflection looking back at me. I give a little push, the door creaks open and a wide smile spreads across my mouth. Amongst the chaos that is his room, clothes and possessions slung around, floor to ceiling, is my sixteen-year-old brother. Leaning against the headboard, Xbox controller clutched in his hand and eyes glued to the screen, I'm taken aback by how much he reminds me of her. The way his shaggy chestnut hair falls over his forehead, or how his jade eyes flash mischievously as he smiles at me.

"Jesse you know what mom said…is your homework done?"

"Yes Rachael, I've been yelled at enough to know its beneficial to me to just get it done and not argue…saves us all a lot of time," he winks at me with a wave of his hand to sit on his bed with him," Come and relax with me."

I look longingly at his bed, thinking about how much closer it is than mine, but all I want to do is strip down to my underwear and sleep for a year. My head pounding and body sagging I smile softly.

"Maybe later little bro, I'm not feeling so well," I yawn, "Mom should be home by dinner, I'm going to take some medicine and lay down."

He tilts his head and looks at me with concern, "You ok? You look a little pale?"

I don't want to unnerve him so I lie, I don't tell him my face feels like its caving in or that I've had the chills all day long, I just want to end the conversation so I can sleep.

"Yes Jesse, I swear I'm ok, just a little run down is all."

"Well ok, do you want me to wake you for dinner?" he asks and I know his unasked question, _and keep mom out of your room?_

"No that's alright, I'm just going to call it an early night," I shrug and feel the nerves in my head scream in pain.

"Gotcha, just call me if you need anything," and instantly he is engulfed back into the game. I smile to my self as I turn in his door way and gently pull the door shut behind me.

No sooner am I in my room then do the jeans come down my hips and off my legs, pooling on my floor, the coldness a shock to my bare feet. I turn around and catch a quick glance at myself in the full-length mirror.

I don't exactly look like my brother…or my mother for the most part; where their eyes are piercing green, mine are a muddy brown. Where their hair shines a soft and silky auburn, mine is reminiscent of chocolate syrup, curly and fickle in this damp weather. Like my mom my brother is lean and lithe with the right 'meat' in the right places to make him look dashing; I on the other have inherited the curvy side of the family. I'm not overweight, I work out regularly…I guess I'm just more curvaceous; full breasts and a rounded bottom complete the picture. I try not to be self conscious, but when you look nothing like your family it tends to weigh on your mind, that and all I see is him.

I cease to call him dad or father, he has been out of our lives for ten years and yet the memories are just as fresh. I hate that I look like him, that I have the same round face instead of oval like my mom's. That my crooked smile and quick wit are all him, and that I'm forced to look at myself everyday…in this very mirror and see a face or rather semblances of a face that has caused our family so much pain. Sometimes I wonder how my mom manages to look at me, to gaze at me and not feel hate or contempt, I am after all a daily reminder.

I don't get in moods like this often but when it does happen I run it over and over in my head for several days, destroying my self worth in the process. I know these thoughts are inaccurate, even asinine, but I can't help the way I feel.

I peel the covers back on my bed as I crawl under the cool sheets and heavy blankets, my skin is graced with goose bumps.

_ My fever must be higher than I thought._

Seeking the blessed relief that is my migraine medicine, I pull my bedside table drawer open and snatch up the opaque and orange prescription bottle. I shake two pills into my hand and reach for my water bottle constantly kept by my side. As the liquid and pills slide smoothly down my throat, I sink deeper and deeper into my pillows, awaiting the fuzzy haze and drowsiness that would soon follow. The last thing I remember was a quiet prayer that escaped my lips:

_ Please help me find my place…I don't know where I belong_.


	2. Chapter 2

**This one is a little longer...and you get a better glimpse into the past. I don't own anything except for my own creations, I'm just playing :) **

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><p>Sharon Raydor was tired. This recent case was draining her energy reserves that she had so carefully stored up. Most of it had to do with the sensitive nature of the investigation, but what made her so distraught was the obvious deception. Ally Moore lied about her problem plain and simple, and put Sharon in an uncomfortable position with a certain chief deputy, someone who was already out for her blood, but is now nosing around in her personal business.<p>

_ I knew she would access my file_, she sighed, _but she won't find anything in there_.

It made her wonder just how far the southern belle would go to figure out why Sharon had acted the way she did, why this case seemed more personal than others. From what Sharon had seen of her other investigations she knew that the Chief would beat whatever it was she was interested in, with a stick until she solved the total package. This precarious…for lack of better word, "relationship," with the deputy chief is strenuous.

_I don't understand, all I'm trying to do is my job. I've never given her reason to hate me, _a quick shake of the head and she banishes all forlorn thoughts.

_ Although I guess I should have know this would be the outcome when I chose a career in Internal Affairs. _

As the sleek sedan pulled on to the cozy suburban street, Sharon couldn't help but notice how fresh and clean it looked, the dew from the recent rain still clinging to the dead and yellowed grass. She wasn't overtly wealthy, but she did live comfortably, she made sure her children had what they needed, and the rest was just icing on the cake.

As Sharon pulled the car into the driveway and pushed the gears into park, she stared out of her misty windshield at her house. It was a nice sized Victorian setting with a large sprawling front lawn and a wrap around porch. The flowerbeds that were once blooming with the fruit of spring now lay brown and dried with the death of winter. The house itself is warm and inviting, with a rich mocha coloring for the base paint and a chocolate brown for the flowing molding. The only splash of color is the outrageous accent of the front door, a crimson red designed to draw the viewer's eye to the focal point of the house.

**_19 Years Earlier…_**

She had loved the house since the first time she had seen it, even though it could have used some work. It was, in essence, her dream house, that thing she'd longed for all her life. That's when the marriage had started to deteriorate; she had fought Richard tooth and nail to buy this house.

_A waste of money._

_ Piece of shit._

_ A pit of quicksand._

He had called it all of those negative phrases, and had spouted some much more colorful expletives at her through all of it. He was convinced she would fail in her quest to remodel the house and make it into a home.

She had done it all, she had replaced the carpet, painted the rooms, and replaced the squeaky board on the third step of the stairs all the while he had scoffed at her. It had been therapeutic at first; a way of unwinding after a stressful day at work but then it had evolved into a way of escape. Three years after buying the house she had nailed the last board into place, just in time for some even better news.

Two weeks after she had finished the house Sharon received news that would drastically alter her life. She hadn't been feeling like herself lately, she was becoming more easily tired and had started to loose her appetite…she chalked it up to being run down from work and working to complete her house. She scheduled an appointment to see her doctor, and her physician ran every test, determined to get to the bottom of what was wrong with Sharon.

She had just pulled into the driveway after a long day in the office, when she heard the landline ringing as she climbed the steps. She quickly unlocked the door and swooped up the cordless headset perched on the table in the entryway.

"Hello?" she cautiously answered, gently closing the front door behind her.

"Sharon? It's Doctor Michaels, how are you feeling? Any change?"

"No, not really. My energy level still seems to be low, I was just about to put my feet up." She declared as she proceeded to hang up her coat and scarf.

"Well I think I may have found the problem," the doctor hesitates, "did you want me to tell you over the phone or would you like to meet in person?"

"I can take…its not serious is it? I'm not going to die am I?" she quietly says while slipping off her wet boots.

The doctor chuckled slightly, "Oh no! Its something that's curable…in about six months," she finished with an audible smile.

Confused, "Six months? What are you…"Sharon paused slightly, "Am I?"

"Congratulations mommy!" Dr. Michaels exclaimed, and Sharon dropped her phone.

She gingerly untucked her shirt from her pants and slowly began to push the buttons through the small eyelets. Sharon looked down in disbelief at her still relatively flat tummy, running her soft palm around the barely visible swell and tears began to run from her eyes.

**_Present_**

Oh how naïve she had been back then, she thought a baby could solve all of their problems, had expected it to fix her marriage. Looking back now she should have seen the signs, it had been a bad match from the start and she had been wrong to subject her children to that. Poor Rachael had gotten the brunt of it, had seen things that no child should ever see, and Sharon was reminded everyday of how she had failed as a parent. She was supposed to protect her children…should have left when he started belittling and humiliating her.

_Hindsight is twenty-twenty they say…no use beating yourself up, what's done is done._

Collecting her thoughts and taking a deep breath, she slowly heaves the car door open. She reaches into the passenger seat to grab her purse and briefcase loaded with all the files belonging to the most recent officer involved shootings. Hefting both over her shoulder she slowly begins her trek up her front steps, cautiously so as not to slip.

Once inside the front door she immediately kicks a very familiar looking book bag, almost breaking her toe in the process.

"Jesus Rach what is in this thing?" she mutters, and then calls up the stairs, "Rachael Kiernan! Make sure your bag is out of my sight by dinner!"

There is a sudden flurry of movement up stairs and then the heavy plodding of feet on the carpeted floor, reminiscent of the pitter-patter of little feet when the children were younger. Suddenly the head of her youngest child pops around the corner of the stairs, seeing his mom a silly grin splits his face. He sits on the banister of the stairway and proceeds to slide down at a frighteningly fast pace.

"Heya mom!" he cheerfully greets as he comes to a graceful stop, oblivious to her horrified look.

She takes a shuddering breath, "Jesse Rowan! How many times have I asked you not to do that?"

He shrugs guiltily, "A few hundred I suppose…but I'm always careful, you know that." He placates as he places a chaste kiss on his mother's cheek, "How was your day?"

Sharon sighs, "Same as yesterday, I'm honestly just tired of this whole business with the Chief," she states as she makes her way through to the kitchen.

He hops up to sit on the counter as she relieves her self of her bag and brief case.

"That's understandable, she tends to be a little grating on the nerves from what I've been told," he casts his mother a sideways look and winks.

"Oh you!" she swats at him playfully, "I'm going to go change and then start dinner."

She turns around to find the rest of the kitchen empty and begins to wonder why her oldest child has yet to show her face.

"Where is your sister Jess?"

"In her room," he replied smoothly.

Having raised these two teens, Sharon can read her children's facial expressions like books…the one her son was currently wearing suggested that he was either keeping something from her or he was guilty of some unknown act.

"Doing what?" she asked pinning him with a stern gaze.

Under her scrutiny he shifted nervously, "Sleeping."

Sharon eyebrow connected with her hairline, "In the evening?"

Jesse huffed a breathy sigh, "She wasn't feeling well when she came home, she looked kind of pale," he shrugged, "She said she was going to take some medicine and lay down…I think for the night."

Sharon knew what her eldest was like, exactly like herself. Rachael had a habit of setting impossible quotas for her self and then would push to achieve them until she wore herself down. These episodes normally ended with her breaking down emotionally or becoming so run down that she became physically ill. Sharon shook her head exasperated.

"I'll check on her after I change," she stated, "can you take the hamburger out and start to defrost it?"

"Sure mom," Jesse agreed, although he looked like he had just ratted out his best friend.

Sharon chuckled to her self as she turned on her heel, clutching her glasses and headed out of the kitchen. It amazed her how her children loved to be contradictions; instead of fighting like cats and dogs, they were inseparable. It had been that way since the day she had told Rachael about the new baby. She would talk to him even when he was still in the womb, and as soon as they found out it was a boy he ceased to be the baby and became 'my boy,' as she called him.

**_17 Years Earlier…._**

Sharon was tired…exhausted if she was completely honest. She wasn't sure why this birth had been any different from the other; maybe it was because there was a big difference between thirty-two and thirty-five. Or maybe Jesse Rowan Raydor was more stubborn, and finally decided to make his entrance twelve hours later than his sister Sharon chuckled.

_Or maybe a little of both_, she thought to herself.

A soft cooing noise drew her attention to the bassinet next to her hospital bed, and the wiggling form within. Gingerly she lifts herself into a sitting position just as the baby starts to mewl and whine. At that sound Sharon feels the familiar sensation of he breasts aching, letting her know without a doubt her milk has come in and the baby is definitely hungry. She reaches in and grasps the firm form of her son, as she settles him close to her chest at the opening of her hospital gown, there comes a tentative knock on the door.

She raises her head from he son and sees two familiar big, brown eyes looking at her from behind a shock of silky chocolate curls. Sharon smiles at her daughter and receives a toothy grin in return as she sprints to her mother's bedside.

Rachael gently crawls onto the bed to sit beside Sharon, and she gazes at her brother, her eyes growing wide. As her mother kisses her forehead and tugs her closer to her side she asks:

"What do you think little one?"

Rachael gently rubs his cheek, "Mommy, he's so little!" she exclaims in wonder.

Sharon giggles and shifts the bundle gently.

"He sure is baby, and you know what? You were smaller than him," she teases softly.

The precarious silence is broken by a squeal from the baby in question, reminding his new family that he was still hungry.

"And loud!" Rachael giggled, and then squealed louder as she was swept off the bed and into two strong arms.

"Well hello there," Sharon said huskily as she greeted her husband, "I had wondered where you had gotten to."

"I went to grab this cute little peanut from the waiting room," he proclaimed as he continued to tickle his daughter, now shrieking loudly, "but she got away from me at the end of the hallway," he smiled.

"She's just excited," Sharon reasoned as she leaned up for a soft kiss.

Richard Raydor was indeed a handsome man, and the sharp suit he wore just enhanced his appeal. At six foot two, he was much taller than Sharon, where he was broad she was petite; they always seemed to fit so well together. Richard's hair was exquisite and she loved to run her fingers through the wavy, chocolate locks with passion or even enjoying the evening news with his head in her lap. But it was Richard's eyes that had attracted Sharon from the start, they were so dark and alluring, they were widows to his soul. He could convey whatever he was feeling to her with just one look, they would darken with passion, or lighten with mischief. Their daughter had the same looks in fact the only way Sharon knew she was indeed hers was because she had carried her for nine, long months.

"How you feeling babe?" Richard inquired with his strong baritone.

Sharon shrugged, "A little sore and tired of course, but happy all the same," she drawled with a soft smile as she looked at her son.

The baby was now becoming fractious nuzzling into his mother's chest, being able to smell the milk but desperate to find it. Sharon pulled the flap back on her hospital gown and repositioned Jesse just so, ensuring he would latch on, and latch on he did.

The sensation caused Sharon to gasp, it felt strange since she had not breast fed a baby for close to two years. After the initial fumbling and squirming on Jesse's part Sharon felt the sensation of her milk streaming through her ducts, and her head sagged against the pillow in relief. The insurmountable weight on her chest lifting, Sharon stared down at her son with a small smile on her face, occasionally kneading her breast to move the milk along. Jesse's dark unfocused eyes started to droop with the sensation of a sated and full tummy, until he finally nodded off to sleep.

Sharon looked to Richard and with a simple nod scooted forward enough on the bed to for him to slip in behind her. She brought her knees up to her chest so as to rest the baby against them to gently prop him up, as Rachael climbed up and leaned her head against her mother's shoulder while slipping her thumb into her mouth, she gently ran her hand over the baby's downy head. Sharon slipped her arm around her daughter's tiny shoulders, and rested her hand on her cheek, softly caressing the soft skin. Richard's arms slipped around her waist to rest on her tender tummy softly, as Sharon moved her head to the side slightly his chin came to rest on her shoulder.

"Good job babe, he's beautiful," whispered with such emotion and conviction it brought happy tears to her eyes.

"Yes he is," Sharon agreed nodding her head slightly.

Rachael yawned softly and leaned even heavier on her mother's shoulder, the gentle caress on her cheek lulling her to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharon took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes; life after that was never simple with Richard. In fact happy moments were few and far between after Jesse had been born, and to this day Sharon never knew what caused Richard to become so distant…so cold towards his family.

She shook her head and glanced reluctantly up the stairs. The fallout between her and Richard had been hardest on Rachael, which in all honesty made perfect sense to Sharon. She was after all the firstborn and had experienced many more happy memories than her brother; she knew what her parents looked like before and after.

She started up the stairs contemplating what to make of her daughter. Even after nineteen years Sharon had still barely scratched the surface of what lie beneath her daughter's façade. She liked to think she had a pretty open and honest relationship with her daughter, but now she wasn't quite so sure. Something had been bothering Rach for weeks, Sharon could _feel_ it, but she had yet to come and talk with her mother. Rachael was the sensitive one, the one that would always need reassurances and hugs once in awhile, the one who would go and go and go until she finally broke down.

_So much like myself_, Sharon thought.

Sharon came to the landing, tilting her head to the side as she inspected the walls adorned with pictures; so many memories, some recent and others from a life long forgotten. There was one with Rachael and Jesse in their Halloween costumes, a toothless vampire and stout cowboy. The next of Rachael all suited up in soccer gear grinning at the camera, the year her team won the championships; Jesse with his arm around her back, bunny ears and all. The last picture she comes to makes her stop, it was the one of all three of them professionally done; on the outside a beautiful family, but every member knew better. All the hurt and hopelessness there for anyone to see, well if they were looking hard enough.

Coming out of her revelation, Sharon continued her way down the hall, her steps becoming sluggish, the weight of her day finally hitting her square in the chest, the desolation setting in. Caressing her daughter's door as she passed, she contemplated checking in on her now, but thought better of it. If Rachael was indeed not feeling well she would want her mom to sit and comfort her, and for that Sharon would want to be comfortable.

Sharon walks through the doorway of her bedroom and gently closing the door, not wanting a repeat of two years ago. Sharon giggled uncontrollably as she remembered back to that day:

**_Two Years Earlier…_**

It was one of those rare afternoons when Sharon Raydor was allowed to be herself, having completed her paperwork for the day early; she was now bounding up the stairs with great enthusiasm. She glanced at the clock on the wall above the landing, two-thirty it read. Rachael wouldn't be home until at least five and Jesse had tutoring after school until three-thirty…that meant she had an hour to her self to do what ever. She decided a relaxing soak in the tub was in order, hoping the warm water would chase away the stress from her week.

She quickly pushed open her bedroom door and looked around the plain yet inviting room. Sharon loved the color white she found it comforting and pristine. She knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that if everything was this striking color that in essence it was clean, still held its innocence. As absurd as that sounded to her highly intelligent self, she just couldn't help the calming effect the color had on her.

The center of the room focused on her large four-poster bed, which was draped with an elegantly quilted duvet cover and white satin sheets. Stacked against the head board were four simple white pillows, truth be told the starkness of the white made an interesting contrast with darkness of the cherry-wood used to construct her bed frame.

Sitting astute like foot soldiers were the matching nightstands, one stacked high with books reading glasses perched precariously on top and the other adorned with pictures of her children. Directly across from the bed on the same wall as the door stood her stoic dresser, backed with a large antique, swiveling looking glass. One end was arranged with her dichotomy of perfumes and the other side held her stereo complete with an adapter for her iPod. Sharon Raydor loved music, in fact the best and most thoughtful present her children ever given her was the red contraption seated in the cradle of said stereo, she had no idea what she would do without it.

She walked on along the cold hardwood floor, the iciness beneath her feet making her feel alive. Strolling past her walk in closet, she threw in her pair of favorite black high heels, wincing as she heard them land with a clunk.

_ I'll rearrange them later,_ she half-heartedly promised.

As she crossed the threshold into her bathroom she smiled at the very missed and horribly neglected claw-foot bathtub. It was a must as she remodeled the house, noting was better after a long and strenuous week at the LAPD than a nice soak in this luxurious tub. She strode, almost cat-like, across the tile floor and stopped in front of a shelf hung just to right of the tub, perusing the scented oils. She had sensitive skin and unfortunately was unable to enjoy bubble bath as it gave her a nasty case of hives, but strange enough the oil did not affect her.

_Hmmmm, do I feel like lilac or jasmine today_, she contemplated to her self.

Deciding to go with the more subtle scent of lilac, she unscrewed the top of the overly ornate bottle and let a generous stream flow into the now full bathtub. Delicately sniffing the saturated air, she grinned pleased with her decision.

She walked back into the outer room of her bedroom and unbuttoned the buttons at her waist connecting the lapels of her strict and tailored business suit. Folding it carefully she laid it on the end of her bed and reached behind her back to bring down the zipper of her sheer white blouse then slowly lowering it off her shoulders and over her head. Next she pushed the button of her slacks open and gently shimmied the material over her rounded hips then down long, well muscled thighs and finally falling past well shaped calves to pool at her feet.

As she carefully folded her pants, preserving the crease, and laid them with the rest of her garment she caught sight of her self in her mirror. This morning she had chosen on of her favorite lingerie sets to wear under her 'armor.' Anyone could clearly see that the matching panty and bra set was the color green but could just as clearly see Sharon Raydor's form through the sheer lace tantalizing, and teasing. She loved sexy underwear, just the feeling of the lace against her skin, the knowledge that only she knew what she wore beneath excited Sharon and gave her a sense of empowerment.

Sharon Raydor was a beautiful woman, although she didn't see her self as that way, she had countless people tell her through the years. He stomach wasn't exactly flat but no stretch marks adorned her pale skin, in fact the only concession to having two children was the soft, slightly rounded pillow bellow her navel.

Her breasts were not as tight as they had been in her twenties but she surmised that that would be just absurd on a woman her age. They sagged a little, a concession to age she supposed, but were still soft and firm, rounded and full, topped dusky pink nipples. Raking down her body she observed her hips, much rounder from childbirth that gave way to nicely toned legs that were long and lean. Twirling in the mirror she observed her backside, nicely toned and well beyond a rounded handful as someone had once told her, she giggled, then stopped abruptly. She hadn't though about him in almost ten years, and suddenly melancholy slipped into the air.

Not wanting to ruin her pleasant afternoon, Sharon shook herself from her revelry and backtracked to her bathroom, her arms bending behind her back to unclasp her bra. As the soft material slid down first one shoulder and then the other, she piled it on top of her pantsuit. She was straightening up when all the sudden she heard voices and they were steadily coming closer.

_Oh shit_, she panicked.

Looking around the room and listening to the voices coming up the stairs, she realized that the two voices were male, one belonging to her son and the other to his friend Keith.

_Oh no. _

Sharon stared horrified through her open doorway to the very landing the two teenagers were about to step up to. It was like a train wreck that she couldn't look away from, the two teenagers would have a very memorable view of one Sharon Raydor standing half naked in her bedroom.

All she could do was close her eyes and cross her arms over her chest to cover her breasts and brace herself for impact.

Three…Two…One…

"Jesus mom!" she heard Jesse squeak, as his footsteps increased, almost as if he was sprinting down the hall.

Sharon jumped as she heard her bedroom door slam shut with such a force that the mirror on her dresser rattled on its swiveling hinges. Slowly her eyes opened and truly knowing she was alone she finally let her self breathe a sigh of relief.

Sharon quickly pulled on her pajama pants that lay crumpled on the floor by the foot of her bed, and then wrenched the camisole over her head as well. Striding over to the closed door, not ready to have 'this' discussion with two teenage boys. The snickering on the other side of her door stopped her in her tracks.

"Dude!" she heard Keith exclaim farther down the hall, "I knew your mom was nice looking, but she just jumped to the rank of MILF in my book!"

She heard a sudden scuffling sound, most likely the two boys wrestling, and then a loud _thwump_. This was followed by a hiss of pain and then a gasp as the injured person regained his breath.

Then she heard Jesse snarl through clenched teeth, "That's my mom, you asshole!"

Keith weezed in pain, "I didn't mean any disrespect," and from the way he trailed off Sharon imagined Jesse stepping toward him menacingly.

"Uhhhhh…." he stuttered, " never-mind dude."

Sharon couldn't suppress the giggle that escaped her throat as she listened to the two teenagers bound down the stair and out the backdoor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok folks, here we go go getting into dark and uncharted territory... **

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><p><em>Present<em>

Sharon giggled just remembering how awkward dinner had been on that that particular evening. She had never seen Jesse, who was normally such a chatterbox, so quiet in his entire life; as for Keith…he couldn't even look her in the eye. Herself and Rachael had to keep the stinted conversation going, her daughter never suspecting what exactly went on that afternoon.

Switching gears her mind was instantly brought back to the present situation: Rachael and her health. Carefully tossing her charcoal suit into the clothes hamper, Sharon opened her bottom drawer, scooping up a pair of red flannel pajama pants and a red long sleeved t-shirt. Forgoing the socks, she always preferred to be barefoot, and sliding her glasses on she silently padded down the hallway towards Rachael's room.

Coming to a stop in front of the door, she debated on whether or not to knock, one thing Sharon Raydor always prided her self on was giving her children the privacy they deserved. She had mixed feelings about just bursting through Rachael's door, but truth be told if she took a certain medicine, she might not answer.

_I'll just give a quick peek inside, _reasoned Sharon.

She carefully pushed open the thick door and peeked her head around the corner. The room was lively but not cluttered, pristine and quiet, like the girl currently nestled under the vibrant green down comforter. Sharon crept closer to her daughter's bed, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floor, all the while bending to pick up the clothing strewn from the door to the side of the bed.

Stopping to place the soiled clothing in the empty hamper, she shoots a concerned look at her daughter lying in the bed with the blankets pulled up under her chin. Sharon smiles to herself, thinking about how Rachael has slept this way since she was a baby. It used to unnerve Sharon when he would check on her in the middle of the night only to find the thin, gauzy receiving blankets almost wrapped completely around the delicate head. The only feature of her daughter that could be seen at those times were her round eyes, closed in sleep; this never failed to make Sharon's heart leap into her throat.

Placing a cool, gentle hand on the sickly girl's brow gave her a start as she took in her daughter's appearance. She noticed how her complexion is pale but has a sallow pallor to it, almost looking green. At a closer look she can see the sweat soaked hairline, leading Sharon to believe her fever was higher than she had initially anticipated. Rachael looked so small under all the heavy blankets, she'd always been small, and Sharon had always worried about her.

Glancing to the left her eyes instantly fall upon the very familiar sight of the opaque prescription bottle.

_Obviously the pain was great enough to warrant these_, Sharon expressed silently to her self as she rolled the pill bottle in between her hands.

She had never accepted the fact that Rachael needed these painkillers, in fact she found it down right unnecessary at some points, just a way to dull her self to life. Yes, she knew her daughter suffered from horrible, nauseating migraines, but she also knew that her daughter had a tendency to take just little more than the recommended dose. Sharon noticed it a few months after Rachael received the prescription, nothing severe as classifying her as a drug addict, but worrisome nonetheless.

Resting the pills back on the nightstand, Sharon took one last look at her daughter, knowing she would be out for the rest of the night, slowly turned and headed back out the way she came.

It's hard for Sharon to fathom just exactly what her daughter was feeling in this exact moment. She could understand Rachael's sense of guilt, even though it was thoroughly unwarranted, she had been a constant spectator in the game that was Sharon and Richard's so-called marriage. She had seen almost every fight, either ending in physical pain or emotional; this sweet child was always there to pick up the pieces. Sharon knew exactly just how wrong it was to use her daughter as a crutch, but at that desperate point in time she had no other choice…or though she thought.

It caused Sharon a physical ache on a daily basis to think of what she had put her children, especially her eldest, through. She had no one to help her or to confide in, so she used what was plausible. It was inexcusable…but she had been powerless to she the damage her actions could and would cause, the detrimental effects they would have on her children. Until he came along…

The only person who had ever called her beautiful and meant every syllable; the only person who held her heart to this day. The only problem is that he quite dislikes her at the moment. He was the last one she had dared let get close, looking back on it now he may have been too close; too closely connected with her and too closely connected with the problems in her marriage. He had helped her get free of Richard and it should have stopped there, but it hadn't, it had snowballed into one giant mess…a mess she had been trying to get over for so long. It wasn't often that these feelings crept over her, but when they did they caused her physical pain; she was unable to breath, her chest felt constricted.

_12 Years Earlier_

He had been her savior. He had picked her up and helped her put the broken pieces back together. He made sure she got up in the morning to take care of her children, and was always there when the shadows crept into her dreams at night, chasing away the demons with his warm brown eyes; he was her constant and she needed him, couldn't breathe without him. He loved her, he told her he had for a long time and she knew he meant it, she only hoped that even though she couldn't say the words to him at that time, that he had known in some way that she did love him.

Then one day it had all changed, her world shattered yet again. He told her he was sorry, that this wasn't supposed to happen, he loved her for God's sake! It was their one night alone; Rachael and Jesse were both at a friend's house and wouldn't need to be picked up until twelve thirty tomorrow afternoon.

His ex had knocked on the door to her home, crying uncontrollably, unable to talk and breathing rapidly. Sharon knew from the moment he asked her to excuse them that something was about to change, for the good or the bad, she wasn't quite sure yet.

An hour or so later she heard her front door gently click closed, and then the heavy padding of feet upstairs. He pushed open her door carefully and hesitantly stepped over the threshold, seeing her sitting cross-legged in the middle of her extravagant bed. She was staring at her hands folded tightly in her lap, her head cast downwards with a defeated slump to her shoulders. At his soft throat clearing she slowly lifted her head revealing to him tracks of silent tears running down her face. Torn between wanting to wipe the lost look off her and knowing what he had to say, he planted his feet firmly, slightly apart as he came to rest at the end of the bed.

"We need to talk," he stated gently.

Reaching for her hands, he was startled when she pulled away from his comforting touch to wrap her arms around her legs as she drew them up to her chest. She had a wounded look on her face, and he cringed at the fear and uncertainty in her gaze. Sharon was confused, she felt the need to protect her self; something she had never felt before with him. Her voice refused to cooperate so he continued.

He gave her an anguished look as he whispered, "She's pregnant."

Sharon felt as though she had been dealt a physical blow, the wind was literally stolen from her lungs. Tears started to blur her vision, her breath came in little pants, and her head was spinning.

_No. Oh no. Oh God no! _

Her brain finally registered that he was still talking to her, frantically trying to make her see, make her believe. She wanted nothing to with it, she felt as if she were slowly sinking deeper and deeper into cold water, lapping at the edges of her consciousness.

She felt his finger tips brush her arm and she jumped as she ripped her arm away, rolling off the bed so fast, she barely had time to land on her feet before he came around the bed.

"Sharon listen to me!" he pleaded, tears now forming in his eyes.

"I can't," she stuttered, "I can't do this!"

Her breathing was beginning to become erratic; she closed her eyes and concentrated on her heartbeat willing it to slow…

"Please!" he cried.

She opened her eyes and gazed upon her lover kneeling in front of her. The man who had helped her so much and had requested of her so little…he at least deserved to be heard, to let her hear it from him and not assume. She acquiesced then nodded for him to continue talking, but as she looked into his eyes she knew he had already made a decision. He desperately wanted children, and from the state she was in now, mentally and physically, she wasn't sure if she would be able to give him that.

"She needs help, and I want to help her, but I can't leave you."

Unable to control her self, Sharon did the only thing she knew how, she lashed out quick and sharp.

"I'll be fine," her tone was harsh, " we knew this wouldn't be permanent, I'm damaged goods and you need to move on…"

"I don't want to move on!" he interrupted

She sighed, a mask coming down over her face, "You need to, I can't keep leaning on you, being so weak," she spat the last word.

Anger quickly replaced her fear and need; all of a sudden she felt resentment and shame. Resentment for the way he coddled her, how she grew to need him and shame for the way she was treating him now. Sharon knew in her heart this had to be a clean break, she wasn't good enough...he had to see that.

"Sharon…" he begged, the tears beginning to spill over his lashes.

"No." she declared, "No more."

As she brought her head up her flashing jade eyes met his sorrowful brown ones with a strength and anger that momentarily shocked him; he forgot what that look was like.

He saw her decision rooted deeply in the blazing orbs and nodded his head stoically, knowing at this point pushing her would do more harm than good. He slowly got to his feet and continued to gaze at the beautiful woman kneeling on her knees. Her face was red and splotchy from the tears, but her lips were thin and her jaw was clenched…to him she had never looked more beautiful. He shook his head sadly, then abruptly turned and strode out of her bedroom door before she could see his anguish.

She had listened as he hurried down the stairs, and jumped as he quickly slammed her front door, rattling the pictures on the walls in the hallway. Her strength gone, she let go and sank to the plush carpet next to her bed.

She cried endless, silent tears that gave her no satisfaction, no solace from what she had done. She had hurt him, for the better good, but had hurt him nonetheless. She couldn't imagine living without him, but the thought of her holding him back was just as agonizing. She wouldn't be able to look at him later down the road knowing what he _could_ have done with his life, and what he gave up for her purely selfish reasons.

_But I can't live without him._

Hours later when she had no tears left to shed…had no more guilt or sadness that could be released from her listless body, Sharon Raydor pulled her self up onto her bed and lay in the fetal position. The effort it took for body to keep breathing was so painful that she winced with every rise and fall of her chest, her clothes feeling rough and constricting.

Rising from her bed in a trance like state, she slowly moved into her bathroom. Each move of a limb, each step of her foot, each rise of her chest constantly reminded her of the pain, a pain she wanted to stop.

As she reached the side of the large bathtub, she carefully lifted her leg over the rim and then the other. Gently lowering her fully clothed self to the bottom of the basin, she slowly reached for the faucet controls, turning on the water to hot. She made sure it was just that, scalding even, any pain was better than the pain of her heart breaking.

Sharon slid lower into the tub and watched the hot water slowly rise, blanketing every inch of her broken and dirty body until it came to rest just under the tip of her nose. Inhaling one last time she sunk under the boiling water and waited for the end result. She watched the bubbles rise from her nose, jealously seeing them break the surface of the water, escaping to freedom.

After what must have been a few minutes, Sharon's lungs began to scream for oxygen, she could feel them contract desperately. Her throat began to feel tight, her muscles refusing to cooperate as she tried to swallow one last time.

Around the edges of her vision the darkness that she had been once so afraid of began to creep in closer, but she was no longer afraid…she welcomed it. Welcomed the peace and quiet it would bring, and how it would take away all the pain she had to endure daily. Her vision was engulfed in darkness, no more light would ever penetrate her eyes, no pain would ever be felt by her raw nerve endings again….

Suddenly images flashed through her mind's eye, one of a sweet little girl, no more than nine with beautiful, big, round brown eyes. Eyes that would look at her with such love and affection, so powerful that she didn't quite know how one little person produced that. Hair that curled softly down her back as she ran through the sprinklers or a smile that was wide with excitement.

Another image was that of a sweet little boy no more than six, cradling his tattered and ripped blanket to his chest as he sucked his thumb vigorously; his shaggy auburn hair constantly in his eyes, and a smile that showed of all his missing teeth.

She then remembered them all snuggled tightly together in her large California king bed the first couple weeks after the incident. The way the word 'mommy' rolled of their tongue or their high-pitched squeals as she tickled them mercilessly, them begging her to stop.

_I can't leave my babies._

Sharon abruptly grabbed the sides of the tub and shoved her heavy body out of the water, gulping in the sweet air as her lungs expressed their appreciation.

_No more self pity._

_ No more wallowing._

_ No more selfishness._

_ I need to be a mother._

_ I will get through this._


	5. Chapter 5

_**Thank you guys for being so patient! School has kept me extremely busy, but here is the next installment...**_

_**Oh! Special thanks to RitatheBeetle for...well you pretty much know why :)**_

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><p><em><strong>Later that evening…<strong>_

The grandfather clock from the hallway chimes to let the lone woman on the back porch know the late hour. The air is crisp with cold but thick with moisture, the decaying grass shines with beads of forgotten dew. It always amazed the brunette how saddened she became by this scene in winter, how desolate it made her feel. Not taking into account the many hours she spent in the spring months to cure and coax life from the dark soil, it was sad because it was a loss of life. Yes it was the only way to usher in new life in the following months, but a loss of life nonetheless. She lifted her eyes from the brown grass, to survey over the remainder of her backyard.

Sharon sat in a wicker lawn chair normally reserved for the summer months, wrapped in a heather green fleece blanket, her red pajama bottoms tucked neatly into her brown uggs. A clear ashtray balanced precariously on the armrest, a lit cigarette situated gently in the dip of her first two fingers on her right hand. Every so often she would raise the offending object, the acrid smoke curling upward around her face, to her lips inhaling almost religiously. She had been a smoker in her younger years, but through her time on the force and other…things, she has learned that this repulsive little stick, for whatever reason, had a calming effect on her anxiety.

Now being an intelligent woman, she knew it was bad for her and quite addictive, nicotine being one of the more common drugs out there, but she couldn't help the numbing feeling that washed over her. She wouldn't say she has an addictive personality but she could easily see herself doing this sanctimonious act on a regular basis…hence why she only does it under moments of duress.

Looking down at the object in question, she angrily stubs it out into the glass of the ashtray, tossing the pack on to the near by table. She throws her head back stifling a groan as the muscles in her shoulders and neck tense in protest, making her lips curl tightly back over her teeth in a hiss.

Her mind wanders back over the hectic week, with its chaotic events and the blonde smack dab in the center of it all.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she wonders, _How do all my headaches begin AND end with her?_

She could answer that simply by imagining the slow, southern drawl of the Chief's voice, putting extra syllables into most of her vocabulary. As she thinks back to the events of the day, let alone the week, she feels her optical nerve begin throb anew.

Its bad enough that she had to ask for help from the impetuous blonde in the first place, but to be openly placated to the point of being mocked was just icing on the cake. Sharon knew the exact moment the chief became aware of her past, maybe not the full details, but she's sure that the rottweiler had tried looking it up in her department file later on that evening.

The moment Sharon touched Moore's hand and unconsciously sympathized with he detective, was the exact moment Brenda's ears had perked up. She couldn't understand the fascination with her past, it was something that perplexed her on a daily basis. She had worked so hard for the past thirteen years to put it behind her, why couldn't people just leave it buried and cold in her subconscious where it belonged?

Why was there a constant need to 'figure' her out…why not come to terms with her being the aloof and distant head of FID and leave it at that? People already thought of her as an ice maiden, born with no empathy or willingness to feel others pain…why change their opinions now?

Not only had she learned through the years that letting people in was dangerous, she had also come to thrive on her ability to be level headed. Love and personal attachment, for anything other than her children, had seemed to always cloud her judgment. To maintain the façade that she was in fact ok and not as insecure as she felt, Sharon knew she needed to stay objective in her personal as well as her professional life.

A soft sound reaches her ears through the screen door of the kitchen, and she slowly turns her head, curious as to who in her household is still awake at this hour. She smiles slightly as she sees her missing daughter traipse sleepily through the dim kitchen, avoiding the loose board that always squeaks right in front of the pantry door. This causes Sharon to chuckle quietly to herself, all the while wondering how many times her intelligent child had played this particular game. Stealthily Sharon quietly gets up from her chair and heads inside, slipping the sliding glass door gently closed.

Rachael cautiously opened the pantry door, making sure her movements were quiet and controlled, so as not to wake the rest of the household. Reaching up on her tiptoes, she grasps a cereal box from the top shelf and gently closes the ornamental door. Next is the tricky part…the fridge.

Over the years Rachael had become a professional at slipping into the kitchen in the middle of the night unnoticed, especially when she was pulling one of her all too familiar all night study sessions. Gently breaking the suction on the refrigerator door, she snatched up the milk spinning around to set it on the counter next to her intended box of cereal, when her heart almost stops.

There leaning against the counter is her mother, eyes bearing into her soul from underneath her glasses. Her mother with her hair still perfectly curled from her workday, looking especially comfortable in her favorite pajamas. Sitting in front of her neatly folded hands was bowl and spoon that Rachael presumed were laid out for her.

"Geez mom!" she stuttered, "You scared me."

Sharon smiled wickedly, "Good to know I still have that effect on you," she gently teased.

"Oh trust me, you will never lose that power," Rachael snorts inelegantly.

"Hmmmm," Sharon hummed thoughtfully, "Yes well I think I'm entitled to that as your mother."

Rachael giggled softly, "You're entitled to a lot of things, Mom."

Nodding her head absently, Sharon pulled out a barstool and perched on the edge, effortlessly crossing her long legs. Settling her hands in her lap, she looked up at her daughter with a bemused smile and waited.

Becoming unnerved, Rachael began filling her bowl with cereal and milk. As she turned and began to return the box to the pantry she noticed her mother was still looking at her, but now with a worried expression.

A nervous giggle escaped her mouth, "Why are you looking at me like that?" Rachael questioned.

Sharon's eyebrow rose, "Oh I'm just wondering how long it's going to take for you to cave and tell me what's wrong."

The spoon clattered to the countertop as it slipped from Rachael's clammy hands. Giving an exasperated sigh, she turned to her mother who now looked even more worried.

"Mom, I appreciate the concern, but I promise nothing is wrong." Rachael shrugged, "I just seem to be a little under the weather…that's all."

Sharon's eyes narrowed at her daughter, zeroing in on he daughter's face and Rachael had to brace her self not to cringe. That had been the look when she and her brother were little that scared them truthful, they could never escape it, it always had a habit of making her break. Straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she held strong and looked her mother in the eye.

Not in the least bit convinced, Sharon sighed and slipped off the stool, padding around the counter to come face to face with her daughter. She slowly brought her hand up to gently cup her daughter's cheek; instinctively Rachael nuzzled her mother's palm and looked up to meet her loving but sad eyes. Eyes that had always held love for her and that had always been truthful with her, she felt horrible about not confiding in her mother.

Sharon's hand moved to the back of Rachael's neck and cautiously encouraged her to bend forward while placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. As she pulled out of the embrace Sharon gave her daughter a watery smile that didn't quite reach hers eyes.

"When you are ready to talk about it, you know where I'll be… " and with a gentle squeeze to her daughter's hand, Sharon Raydor turned and walked down the hallway towards the stairs.

Rachael watched her mom leave the room and then listened to the barely there footsteps as she ascended the stairs, waiting for the distinctive creak of the floorboards to let her know that she was in fact in her room, with the door shut. As soon as she heard the soft squeak she broke down, silent sobs rolling through her body, tears spilling down her cheeks.

How could she tell her mom about what was troubling her when she knew it would only make her feel worse? To add to the guilt she already carried around on a daily? No…she couldn't and wouldn't do it. Whatever this was, she would work through it on her own, she owed her mom that much…

Sharon Raydor was definitely the strongest woman Rachael had ever known, and not just because she was her mother. She had seen her mother endure and battle more than any other human being should have to in their life. She always put her children first, never let them suffer more than necessary, even if that meant the punishment involved violence.

Taking a deep breathe, Rachael's mind went back to the very first time she had learned exactly what her mother went through, what she endured for the majority of her marriage…

_**Fourteen Years Earlier**_

Screaming. That's how it always started, screaming and yelling, about nothing and everything. Usually those were the nights that Mommy tried to spend extra time with her at bedtime. They would read lots of books and talk about her day at school, then Mommy would lay with her tickling her hair until she fell asleep.

Normally when the screaming started, she would listen to it for a few minutes and then roll over to go back to sleep. But tonight this sounded different, they sounded the maddest they'd ever been at each other. Carefully Rachael pulled her blanket back and slowly plodded to her bedroom door. Applying gentle pressure to the cracked door, she quickly slipped through the crevice, and made he way quickly down the hall to the stairs. She quietly descended the steps to the landing where she knew she could see her parents, but they couldn't see her; from there she had a clear vantage point of the living room where a shocking scene was about to unfold.

Mommy was pacing around the living room collecting hers and Jesse's toys, Rachael instantly felt bad for her mother had asked her to pick them up before bed… Daddy was standing at the bar with a glass in his hand, watching Mommy intently.

"So where exactly were you last night?" Did that voice come from her Daddy? It was a very strange sound...low, scary, and emotionless.

She heard her mother sigh, "Richard we've already been over this…"

"Well God Damn it, lets go over it again!" she heard her father yell.

Suddenly, she saw something shatter against the fireplace causing her mother to jump, the glass and liquid slowly staining the brick. Her mother took one look at the mess, than turned to face her father with her hands on her hips.

"Was that necessary?' her mother shot a glare in her father's direction.

Daddy sneered at her, "It is when my wife is blatantly lying to me, I know you were with him," he didn't seem himself...like he wasn't listening.

Mommy looked at him in complete shock, "Well yes Richard I was but…"

"Well that settles it then," Daddy interrupted as he walked over to the bar to poor himself a new glass. His shoulders were slumped forward, not in defeat, but tight with tension.

Mommy just stared at him, "You aren't making any sense, you know we're partners, of course we were together…."

"Are you sleeping with him?"

Mommy stopped cold, "You can't be serious…." she stated as she walked towards Daddy.

His eyes flew up to meet Mommy's and they flashed with anger, "I'm dead serious."

At this she backed away a few steps,raising her hands placatingly, "Richard I know you're upset, but its my job, I'm Andy's partner..."

Quick as a snake Daddy's hand shot out and situated itself on Mommy's throat, slamming her up against the wall to the right of the fireplace. His fingers curling around and constricting her airway, causing her to make a scary gasping sound in the back of her throat. Rachael was frozen to the spot with fear, what should she do? She quickly glanced up the stairs calculating if she could run to get back into bed with out being seen and forget all of this had happened. Just pull the covers up and over her head, shutting herself out from the outside world.

Her attention was drawn back to her parents when she heard a loud thump accompanied by Mommy's groan of pain. Quickly scanning the situation she realized that her father slammed her mother's head against the wall, if the smear of blood and the tears in Mommy's eyes had anything to say about.

She watched in horror as her father got close to her mother's face, pratically sharing her air space. She saw the abject fear in her mother's eyes as she looked up at her father; she was so much smaller than him it wouldn't take much to…

"Now you listen to me," he practically growled at Mommy, "from now on I don't care if you need to work late with him, you will not be alone with him _EVER_ again.'

He looked her up and down disgustedly, then asked in his low and dangerous tone, "Am I understood?"

With tears scalding down her cheeks, Sharon Raydor did the only thing she could think of and agreed, shaking her head vigorously.

"Good." Richard snarled as her bounced her head off the wall one more time for good measure, a sickening crack reverberating through the house.

He then let her go and watched as she slid down the wall landing in an ungainly heap on the floor, her head cradled in her hands. Crossing the front room to retrieve his keys off the hall table and his jacket from the banister, he cast a quick glance up the stairs, his eyes coming to land on his daughter. Rachael was paralyzed with fear, she had never seen such raw anger in her Daddy's normally soft eyes. He glanced away quickly as he continued on his way to the door, closing it with a slam that rattled the pictures on the wall.

Coming to her senses Rachael quickly got up and made her way down the rest of the stairs, stopping at the bottom at the sight before her. Her Mommy who was brave enough to chase away the monsters from under her bed was leaned up against the wall with her head on her knees crying quietly. Rachael stared at the faint line of red leading from where Daddy had originally pinned Mommy to the wall to where her head was now.

"Mommy?" came Rachael's tentative voice.

Startled Sharon looked up from her knees, with a mixture of worry and embarrassment as her eyes connected with her daughter. A transformation happened before Rachael's eyes, her mother pulled a mask of emotions down over her face, schooling her features. Her mother ceased to be frail and became the protector she would get to know well over the next two years, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"What are you doing up little one?" her mother asked with a watery smile.

Not being able to take her eyes from the lines around her mother's neck, the lines that were perfect matches to her father's fingers...red and angry, Rachael began to sob. Gently her mother pulled her into her embrace, encompassing her daughter in her arms, placing tender kisses in the unruly, curly hair.

Crooning softly her mother said, "I'm ok little one…" sniffing slightly. "Everything will be ok."

Slowly sliding into a standing position, Sharon steadied herself as her world and vision righted themselves, breathing through the nausea and dizziness. When she thought she was ready she pushed away from the wall, from the mess, from the horrible scene of her living room, and slowly made her way up the stairs. All the while her precious daughter cradled in her arms rubbed the knot that began to form on the back of her mother's head. It was then that they both came to a realization that something had changed indefinitely.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Thank you all for being so patient! All I can say is that this chapter will definitely change the tone of the story...for now ;) **_

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><p><em><strong>Early the next morning…<strong>_

There was something about the station that was so captivating this early in the morning; something that was normally bustling with activity was mysteriously silent. Sharon rose from bed every morning at five, whether she slept the night before or not. She was known for her punctuality, which she achieved by arriving everyday to work at six thirty on the dot, sometimes earlier if her insomnia got the better of her the night before.

She found it liberating to walk across the parking lot without the disapproving stares or low-grade whispers. Being able to freeing saunter up to the elevator and say a cheerful hello to Joe, the nighttime security guard, receiving a grin as her reward.

The ride from the parking garage to her floor was always a time used for reflection, whether it was on a recent case or something in her personal life. Today it was personal…in all honesty she was worried about Rachael; her behavior last night confirmed to Sharon that something was wrong. They had always been honest with each other, confided in each other at every opportunity, but last night Rach had been holding something back. Sharon knew she would come to her in time, but it was her mother instincts that had her worrying ceaselessly.

The elevator dinged alerting Sharon that it had reached her floor and as the doors slowly opened she slipped quickly though them. The resounding click of her heels on the solid floor was the only thing that could be heard this early in the morning. She shifted the files she held as well as her briefcase to her right arm as she pulled back the sleeve of her blazer to check her watch.

_Six-fifteen_, she silently smiled to herself, _Perfect._

Continuing down the long stretch on hallway, her steps began to slow, as she got closer to the doors leading into her squad room. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face the empty desk closest to her own office. Pacing back and forth in front of the heavy doors, she can't help but feel betrayed and used.

_Get a grip, Sharon, officers come and go._

_ This is true…but it's harder when you treat them as you own._

_ Well you've learned your lesson there, haven't you?_

_ Yes…I guess I have._

_ Good. Now deep breathe, and start your day._

She was close with all of her officers they each have their own quirks and really enjoyed each other's company. When you work in a department such as FID you learn to over look the sneers and being ostracized by your fellow officers, and start to form a bond with those in your department who know and understand the plight you go through on a daily basis. Maybe close was and understatement….

Taking a deep, calming breath, Sharon straightened her shoulders as she pushed through the doors. Flipping on the lights her eyes are drawn towards the whiteboard near the front of the room. Images of Detective Moore and her husband littered the board, shots of her bruises and of the difference in bullets, what a mess she had made for the department.

Looking to her left she can see the case boxes with Ally's name on them neatly situated on Sergeant Elliot's desk. With a heavy sigh, Sharon shuffles the folders in her hand gently depositing them inside the box, and settling the lid on top. Taking one last look the boxes, she turned on her heel and headed towards her office near the back of the room, studiously ignoring the empty desk.

It wasn't the fact that Ally had lied to her, in fact if it had been about anything other than what it was Sharon probably could have over looked it and dismissed it as just another normal human quality. What bothered her the most was that Detective Moore, along with all her other detectives, knew her back-story, knew what she had gone through. She didn't keep anything from her squad, they knew her secrets and she knew theirs…or so she thought. The fact that Ally had preyed on a part of Sharon that was so utterly private, something she trusted them all with, was the part that really made her blood boil. And for what? A reduced mortgage for her house? It made Sharon physically ill.

Once she was inside her door Sharon proceeded to open all the blinds, she may be ignoring her feelings over losing one of her officers but she couldn't ignore the feelings of her squad. She wanted to observe them as they trickled in, the first of which would be Elliot at seven-fifteen, followed by Randall fifteen minutes later.

She wanted to make sure that even if she herself couldn't quite cope yet, that a least her detectives could put this behind them and start to heal. She wanted to be able to watch their interaction, to be able to step in if and when she was needed.

As she dropped her plethora of her belongings on to her desk, she carefully slipped into her office chair, crossing her legs delicately. Her office was a reflection on her home; yes there was the standard furniture the LAPD but there were plenty of her artifacts to be found all around the room.

On her desk was the dreaded family picture along with a few candid ones. Her children always complained that she was their own personal paparazzo; she constantly had the camera, which was constantly flashing with pictures.

There was one of Jesse sitting on the balustrades of the porch in the early evening, not paying attention to his surroundings but deeply engrossed in the music streaming from the guitar in his hands. Sharon had remembered walking onto the porch to tell him that dinner was ready and stumbling upon such a peaceful moment, she quickly went back inside to grab her camera. When she came back and snapped the picture the flash momentarily startled him from his trance. Looking up at his mother with a dazed expression though his shaggy hair, he suddenly graced her with his boyish smirk.

The next one was of Rachael, and had always been one of her favorites. She had never told Rach that she had actually taken the picture or that it resided on her desk. She knew for a fact that Rachael would see it as embarrassing where Sharon thought it was beautiful.

Rachael has a habit of reading and studying in the large bay window at the top of the stairs; she couldn't put her finger on it but Sharon assumed it brought her daughter some sense of peace. Sharon had been casually coming up the stairs with laundry basket in hand, when she stopped dead in her tracks. Rach was seated cross-legged in the window in her pajama pants, with her unruly curls twirled on top of her head in a messy bun, books and papers strewn about her. She had her glasses on, which was a rare occurrence in and of its self, gnawing determinedly on her pencil. As she went back and forth consulting each book and making notes, without a stitch of make up on and the sun streaming in behind her head, Sharon believed she was truly beautiful.

Smiling to her self, Sharon carefully traced her daughters determined face in the frame. She turned her chair so she was looking out her office window at the downtown nightscape, which was steadily turning a daunting shade of purple in the early morning. Unconsciously she brought her hand to her lips and began daintily chewing on her nails, when a voice from the past reached her ears.

"Still getting here at an ungodly hour I see." His rich voice floated through the air.

Sharon took a second to gather her senses before she turned around; the last time she had heard his voice take on this teasing quality was a long time ago. Pulling herself together, she let her captains mask drop into place. Slowly turning her chair her eyes came into contact with his warm brown ones.

"I also have a habit of not staying later than necessary," she drawled," Is there something I can help you with Lieutenant?"

He quirked a small smile as he leaned against her doorframe staring down at his black leather clad feet, arms neatly folded behind his back. He looked the same as he did years ago, except with more lines on his face and gray in his hair. But then again everyone aged; Andrew Flynn just seemed to do it with dignity and grace not possessed by other individuals.

"Feisty and frosty as ever aren't you Red?"

"My hair hasn't been red for sometime,' Sharon gave an irritated huff, "how many times do I have to tell you I don't appreciate you calling me that."

"You'll always be Red to me," he stated," even if we aren't as close as we once were."

She gave him a calculated stare her eyes narrowing imperceptibly, wondering just exactly he was getting at or what he wanted. He pushed off the door and strode into her office as if he owned the place, settling into one of the chairs in front of her desk and depositing a cup of Starbucks coffee on her desk in one swift motion. Sharon eyed the coffee suspiciously.

"Come on Sharon, I'm not going to poison you," when she looked at him she could see the teasing light in his eyes.

She swallowed, "Yes well…thank you."

"See? Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

She glared at him over the top of the coffee and took a tentative sip. Black with two sugars…just the way she liked it. She couldn't believe he remembered after all these years.

She noticed him fidgeting uncomfortably in the chair, and took the opportunity to study his appearance. He looked like the same old Andy, but for some reason he seemed tired and…was it maybe sad? He was devastatingly handsome in his charcoal grey suit and pale lavender shirt, accented with his silk purple tie. She knew that from somewhere, but she couldn't quite place it…then it hit her.

Sharon felt herself go cold and knew from the way that he visibly colored in his cheeks that she was indeed correct in her assumption. The tie he was currently wearing was the tie she had bought him as a present for his birthday the first year they were partners. She had told him the color accentuated his eyes nicely, boy had she hit the nail on the head with that comment.

Looking down at her lap, she audibly cleared her throat, "What do you want Andy?"

"Why do I need to have and alternative agenda to visit my old partner?" he asked defensively.

She bristled at his question, and locked eyes with him, "Since you haven't taken the time talk to me in, oh I don't know, twelve years!"

He sighed, "Sharon you and I both know I wasn't the one who wanted it this way."

"Well you did nothing to change it!" she accused, "You know I will admit that I am the one who ended things and handled it badly, but I am not the one who has treated me as if I had the plague."

Andy looked down at his lap ashamed; he knew exactly what Sharon was talking about. It was easier in the beginning to ignore Sharon, to make believe she was a cold-hearted bitch that wasn't upset about the split. Then when she transferred to FID it became routine for him to make snide comments about her behind her back with the other officers. After all FID was considered the enemy, wasn't it?

When he didn't respond Sharon continued, "Hmmmmm, that's what I thought."

Andy looked up and met her green eyes, eyes that had held him captive for so many years. The soft mouth that had turned up into a broad smile when ever he was near was now set into a thin line.

"So I'll ask my question again," her voice was laced with ice, " what can I help you with, Lieutenant?"

That tone of voice never failed to make him flush with irritation; it was an act she put on whenever she wasn't willing to deal with the matter at hand.

"I was hoping to speak with my long time friend to see how she was dealing with the fall out of her case, but I can already see that's she not here today, only the wicked witch." He said with a sneer.

She didn't even dignify his comment with a response she just stared at him, over the rim of her glasses. She had learned over the years as head of FID to harden her resolve and heart to these types of comments. She was so good at it that unless you knew her well, you would never think that they bothered her. Unfortunately for her Andy knew her extremely well and saw the quick flash of hurt behind her lenses.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, "Come on Sharon, I just want to know if you're alright...how are you holding up?"

Sharon swallowed, "Andy, I appreciate the concern, I really do, but I don't think this is an appropriate topic to be discussing at work."

Andy noticed the slump of her shoulders, and the hand that unconsciously rose to rub the back of her neck. The tension in her neck alerting him to the fact that she would later have a headache…if he guessed right, tomorrow sometime.

"Then have dinner with me tonight," he blurted out.

Her hand stopped in mid air, her eyes widening slightly.

"Well...I don't…I'm not sure…is this a good idea?" she questioned motioning with her hand between them.

"I've missed you…my friend," he said almost a whisper.

Sharon sucked in a sharp breath, and then proceeded to glance around the room, anywhere except for the occupied space in front of her desk. Contemplating the pros and cons of the situation she came to a quick decision.

She bit her bottom lip lightly, "Just as friends?"

He smiled brightly, "As whatever you want."

The little voice in the back of Sharon's head was screaming at her that this would and could only end badly, too much time had passed and too much had changed. She actively chose to ignore it.

"Ok, dinner it is then," she smiled slightly.

Andy's grin only grew in size as he rose from the chair, "Great then I will see you around seven tonight? I'll pick you up at your house?"

Sharon's cheeks lightly colored as she smiled shyly and nodded, " Ok see you then."

Andy bowed slightly causing Sharon to giggle, and then strode out of the office. Sharon followed him with her eyes as her strode down the long hallway, past the conference room, and sailed through the department doors,

After he left Sharon gently picked up her coffee and looked out her window once again, looking now at the pink sky as the sun started to rise over the tops of the buildings. Taking a deep pull from her coffee, she smiled to herself.

_Maybe today will be a good day after all._


	7. Chapter 7

_**Again thank you all for be so patient, and the only thing I can tell you about this chapter is that something BIG is about to happen! Enjoy :)**_

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><p>It was around noon when Sharon finally came up for air out of the sea of paperwork that was currently consuming her desk. Stretching the muscles in her neck cautiously and blinking her bleary eyes slowly, she finally noticed that her squad room was almost empty. The only two exceptions were Sergeants Elliot and Randall, her normal holdouts who were the ones to normally coax her out of the office for a lunch break.<p>

Sergeant Bradley Randall was the younger of the two, being only twenty-seven, having graduated from USC at the top of his class with a major in criminal justice. It still amazed Sharon sometimes that the Sergeant had chosen the tough life of the LAPD when he could practically choose which law firm he wanted to work at in the greater Los Angeles region.

He looked like the epitome of the shaggy blonde haired, blue-eyed California surfer boy, down to the wide boyish grin, and that was exactly where people went wrong. Sharon liked to think of him as her secret weapon, he lulled the suspects into a false sense of camaraderie and security. Except that in all actuality he was ruthless in his quest for the truth, when investigating the witnesses he would stop it nothing to gather every minute detail.

When Sharon had been promoted and put in charge of this brand new branch of Internal Affairs, better known as Force Investigation Division, she had been allowed to hand pick her own team, from whatever departments or new recruits she saw fit. This fact added animosity to an already precarious position she was in at the LAPD. In fact requesting that Sergeant Trevor Elliot be the last recruit to her new division had been when the gauntlet between herself and Taylor had been thrown down.

Where Randall was slight and athletic, Elliot was tall and muscular, with short black hair and calculating brown eyes. Eliot had joined the academy fresh out of high school and had been recruited in his very first year of service to Robbery/Homicide, with the rank to match. Although he did not have a degree as Randall did, Elliot in fact was comparable if not more talented than his partner.

Elliot at the age of thirty-five had been with the LAPD for almost fifteen years, and had earned the reputation of one of the best detectives in the precinct. He had an eye for crime scenes and collecting evidence, and was more often then not Sharon's first choice to secure the scene. He also had a talent for reading body language, people said he could tell when some one lying even before the lie detector read the results.

With all their talent and combined years on the force, they had gradually earned the respect of their commanding officer, and now were considered her right-hand men. As such they took it upon themselves to make sure she took care of herself, even if it meant dragging her out of her office by force to have lunch with them. That they had respect for Sharon Raydor was an understatement; they not only respected her as a colleague and a human being, but as friend as well.

Along with their many skills came the wicked sense of humor individuals possessed, which was turned loose on Sharon Raydor at every appropriate opportunity. They loved to tease her, within reasonable limits, and enjoyed seeing her laugh and smile, which she did too seldom.

After the division had been working together for a few months and their personalities had finally meshed, Elliot and Randall had made it their mission to make their very aloof and distant captain laugh at least once a day. After all they both believed it was good for the soul, and from what privileged information they had been graciously given, they knew heir captain's soul needed it some days.

Continuing to rub her neck gently, she removed her glasses and carefully set them on top of the pile she had mentally marked as ' sorted' or 'finished.' Turning her chair slightly she could see the two drastically different figures of her men drawing closer to her office door. Stealing herself for the same argument they had everyday, Sharon inhaled through her mouth and exhaled out of her nose.

Her office door suddenly swung open and Randall sauntered in, swiftly seating him self in the chair in front of her desk, flashing her his wide, white smile. Elliot, the subtler of the two, casually leant against the door jam, grinning from ear to ear, the dimple in his cheek prominent.

Looking cautiously back and forth, Sharon voiced her question, "What's up boys?"

"Well," started Elliot, his strong baritone floating through the room, "I know for a fact that you were in your office well before I arrived this morning…"

"And I know for a fact that you haven't eaten all morning," Randall glared at the coffee cups on her desk, "I'm fairly certain coffee doesn't count as a food group either."

Sharon just glared at the two men, "You know if anyone else talked to me this way, I'd have their badges…."

Elliot's grin, if possible, grew wider, "Good thing we aren't anyone else then…."

"Lets go Captain, its your turn to pick today," Randall lifted himself from the chair and strode towards the door where his partner waited.

Sharon sat in her chair stunned as she watched the two men exit her office just as quickly as they entered. She shook her head ruefully and decided that she was lucky to have two wonderful people not only looking after her cases but her well being as well. Snatching up her purse from the bottom drawer of her desk she pushed open the door and quickly strode through the opening.

She raised her voice loud enough for the men to hear her as they walked steadily ahead of her, "Doesn't matter to me, something quick and easy, I have a meeting at two."

Elliot quirked an eyebrow as he held the squad room doors open for his captain, "May I ask with who?"

"Yeah," drawled Randall as they came to a halt at the elevator, "I'm curious as well…"

"Gentlemen, we all know that a replacement is needed within our department," she said through thin lips, folding her arms in front of her, "and the appointment is with a candidate I intend to have."

Knowing the body language well, Elliot connected eyes with Randall and gave him an imperceptible nod as if to say let the topic go. Sharon Raydor was a formidable woman when she was unemotional, but in the state her sergeants found her in today she was even more dangerous. Randall cautiously pushed the button marked number one, and the doors immediately opened permitting the party entrance. If this kept up it was going to be a long lunch.

As it turned out the captain's foul mood only lasted until they reached Elliot's squad car, then just as quickly as it had arrived it had disappeared. The trio decided to lunch at a quaint restaurant around the corner named Gatsby's, designed to look like a nineteen-thirties club, it was one of Sharon's personal favorites.

They talked about the weather, new movies out that week, Sharon's kids, Randall's new Mercedes he had recently purchased, and as the conversation grew they also discussed Elliot's love life. As the minutes wore on Sharon found herself laughing more and more, her sadness over the loss of a team member lifting. She was almost regretful when she checked her watch and it read a quarter to one…unfortunately time to head back.

Arriving back to Parker Center with five minutes to spare, the officers along with their captain rode the elevator still talking about mundane things. They had both fallen back when they exited the elevator doors, as was custom when in the presence of the rest of the team, so Captain Raydor would enter the squad doors first. As they walked through the heavy doors, their eyes caught a familiar sight; hip leant against the now empty desk staring at her feet, was a sight that brought excitement and apprehension; the men stopped and stared with their mouths agape.

She wore black pinstriped pants that hugged her long legs, which ended in pointed close-toed black pumps. The matching blazer which was open at the waist was situated over a plain cotton v-neck t-shirt, her badge was visible, clipped precisely to the waist of her pants. Her hair was curled gently above her shoulders, and her arms were folded defensively across her chest. When she looked up from staring at her feet, she locked fierce brown eyes with Sharon, and a slow smile stretched across her pretty, full lips.

"Captain Raydor," the woman stated reaching out her hand as a greeting, "A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise Lieutenant," Sharon smiled in return then gestured to the door of her office with a sweep of her hand, "Shall we?"

The pretty Lieutenant nodded in agreement and preceded Sharon into her office as the captain held the door open, all the while the men watched; then the door close with a quiet click. With a sudden flick of her wrist, Sharon shut out the rest of the squad as she closed the blinds.

Elliot groaned as he sat down at his desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. He suddenly felt his desk shift under the weight of what he presumed was his partner sitting on the edge.

Then he heard Randall quietly mutter, "What the hell is she thinking?"

Elliot gingerly lifted his head from his hands, to come face to face with his partner's worried stare.

"I'm not sure," he sighed in frustration, "but she's about to start World War III."

As Sharon turned back to the detective sitting in the chair directly in front of her desk, she couldn't help the foreboding feeling that washed over her. She was already walking a precarious line with Chief Johnson, specifically located between hatred and trust. Was this a wise thing to do?

One thing she was sure of, she needed a replacement for Moore and she needed one with skills that were either comparable or that surpassed Ally's. After pouring over this certain detective's personnel packet, she was satisfied with her decision, whatever the repercussions might be.

The beautiful and young detective in question came to the LAPD with Homeland Security experience, having been a team member for five years and a bachelor's in Forensic Accounting from UC Davis. She is highly skilled in communications and following paper trails, or as with some cases tracking electronic signatures through emails or text messages. Yes she would be an asset to Sharon's team, indeed.

"So…Detective," Sharon began hesitantly, "What brings you back to this neck of the woods," she paused, "More importantly to my division?"

The detective had the grace to blush, "Well ma'am, as you know I've actually been undercover for the last few months and before that I was with the Criminal Investigation Division of the FBI." she explained as she nervously moved in her seat.

"Yes detective…but that still doesn't answer my question," Sharon chuckled, "So ill say it again, what brings you back?"

"Well Captain, to be honest with you, I've missed the LAPD," now that Sharon could understand.

"Even though I went through a struggle the first time around, I would like to give it another shot, it did become my home after all," the detective smiled evenly.

The captain nodded, "And as for the answer to why my division?"

"I want to get ahead in this male dominated industry," the young detective shrugged nonchalantly, "what better way than to than under the watchful eye of one of the precincts strongest female role models, ma'am?"

Well she certainly knew how to boost Sharon's ego, and she accepted the fact that the female detective was in fact telling the truth, but she couldn't help but push just a little more.

"Why not go back to your previous division within the LAPD?" Sharon questioned, seemingly uninterested as she picked at the invisible lint on her blazer sleeve.

The detective cleared her throat, "It was an honor to work with Chief Johnson," she hesitated slightly, "but I think she doesn't have anything else beneficial to teach me, whereas your division and your leadership, I think would be more useful to me in the long run."

Sharon chose not to bring to light the fact that she endured a messy break up with a fellow officer, and that may have been a reason also. As she looked at the detective, she observed that she was calm on the surface, but underneath she was scared…of what the captain didn't know.

Her eyes were astutely examining Sharon as well, her gaze open and appraising, showing that it wasn't the captain of FID that she was afraid of, but the prospect of not being accepted back into an institution she thought of for so many years as her home. Flashing green eyes connected with fiery brown, and in that instant a decision was made.

Sharon chuckled quietly to herself then rose from behind her desk, extending her hand forward in a gesture of peace.

"Welcome to Force Investigation Division Detective Daniels," Sharon grinned, "I will see you tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp; we'll begin to bring you up to speed on our most recent cases."

Detective Daniels' eyes lit up as she reached for the captain's hand, "Thank you ma'am, you will not regret this."

"Of that, I have no doubt," Sharon muttered, as she looked towards the clock on the far wall of her office. It read four fifteen…where had the two hours gone?

Watching the detective gather herself as she prepared to leave the office, Sharon stilled her with a hand on her arm.

"I'm actually just about to head out my self, how about I see you out to your car?" she said with a genuine smile.

"No need ma'am," Daniels hesitated but then was quickly cut off.

"It will be my pleasure," the captain promised.

Both women strode out of the small office and made their way down aisle between the row of desks toward the corridor that would led them to the elevator. As Sharon fished her cell phone out of the front pocket of her purse, her eyes locked with those of Sergeant Elliot. He looked so worried; she sought to allay his fears and nodded slowly towards Detective Daniels with a confident smile. Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Elliot's face drop back to his paperwork, and proceeded to announce that she was leaving.

"Sergeant Elliot," she called, "I'll be out of my office for the remainder of the day…I'll be reachable on my cell."

He didn't verbally respond to her, but raised his had in acknowledgement.

_He's acting odd_, Sharon thought to he self.

Chalking it up to the heavy workload among other... things in the last couple of days, she pushed it to the back of her mind. Today had indeed been a very good and successful day, now all that was left to do was to head home and attempt to explain her evening plans to her children.

Detective Daniels held the squad room doors open for the captain, and the two women continued to chat amongst themselves as they waited for their summoned elevator to arrive. Suddenly the door opened permitting the party of two entrance and they eagerly stepped inside.

What neither of them expected was for the next stop to come so suddenly or for it to admit the one person neither woman particularly wanted to see. Bouncy blonde curls; warm brown eyes, a wide welcoming smile and an outlandishly colored skirt complete the view of Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. She first noticed Detective Daniels and beamed as she stepped merrily into the elevator.

"Hello Detective, it's so nice to see you," she smiled warmly, "How have you been?"

Detective Daniels answered her former commanding officer with an equally large smile, "Just fine ma'am, and yourself?"

"Wonderful, thank yew," as she turned to face the other occupant of the car, her face fell, if only marginally.

"Afternoon Capt'n"," she said with an overtly polite smile.

The southern lilt to her words that seemed to stretch out each syllable never failed to make the hairs on the back of Sharon's neck rise.

She hummed an irritated sound before addressing the blonde southern belle, "Afternoon Chief."

Sufficiently including the captain in her greetings, Chief Johnson immediately turned back to her former detective, "What brings you back to the LAPD?"

Sharon watched as the detective became extremely nervous, "Well…. I…. um that is to say…I had…." she was beginning to stutter.

Clutching at her purse, the captain made a split second decision, "She had an interview with me for an open position in my department..." the words fell from her lips.

"Chief." she added as an afterthought.

The Chief slowly turned to face Sharon, her face blanched and drawn, as if in pain. She sized the captain up, looking her up and down, but Sharon stared back at the chief unflinchingly, she wasn't going to be backing down this time. The chief was the first to look away from the staring contest, shaking her head.

"Well," she drawled in obviously irritated and clipped tone, "Congratulations to the both of you, she will be a true asset to your team Capt'n."

Sharon acknowledged the chief with a subtle nod of her head as a shrill ding filled the elevator car. The doors quickly opened with a soft _whoosh_, and just as quickly the blonde exited muttering an apology for having to run.

Sharon couldn't help but smirk at the way the chief stomped off like a spoiled child, reminding her oddly of her children when they were younger.

As the doors closed the Detective recovered somewhat, "Well that went better than I though it would," she said shakily.

"Yes," Sharon concluded aloud, "much better."

In the back of the FID captain's mind, she couldn't help but feel as if she hadn't heard the last of this from the southern spitfire.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Thank you all for being so patient, school and work have been especially demanding these last few weeks. I hope you enjoy :))**_

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><p>Sharon had intended to take the rest of the afternoon to relax and prepare herself, mentally and physically, for her coming evening…really she had. Although it seemed fate had deemed it necessary to inflame her nervousness.<p>

On the way home was bumper-to-bumper traffic, which wasn't unheard of in LA, but was unusual at four-thirty in the afternoon. On the rare occasion Sharon was able to sneak out of the office around this time, she could normally coast the freeway arriving at home in twenty minutes flat.

It had now been one hour, forty-six minutes, Sharon glanced at her wrist cautiously, quickly averting her eyes back to the road, and twenty-seven seconds. This was getting ridiculous, if she actually achieved getting home in the next fifteen minutes, that would give her roughly a half hour to not only get ready but explain to her two children exactly what this night was all about, before Andy showed up.

She sighed; _I guess I should figure that out before hand…_

_ Well what do you want it to be? _She asked herself_._

_ Honestly, I'm not sure._

_ That's dangerous territory, _the brunette warned herself_._

_ Don't I know it…_

Suddenly the reason for such heavy traffic came into Sharon's line of sight; accidents of this nature never failed to make her stomach turn and jump at the same time. There smashed against the center divider looked like what could have once been a stylish two-door sports car, but now was a permanent compact. The third part to the 'sandwich' was a very familiar looking black and white four-door vehicle.

As she drove by the scene in horror, she couldn't help praying that number one: all those involved were safe; and two: that her services wouldn't be needed this fine evening.

Rachael was casually sprawled out on the ornately stuffed couch that took up the majority of the living room, reading her latest novel of the week when she heard her mother's car pull into the driveway. The engine died off quickly, replaced by the loud clang of the door closing and the precise click of her mom's heels on the walkway. Gingerly she extracted her self from the couch and shuffled to the entryway, just in time to see hurricane Sharon blow in through the front door.

When her mother was in one of her 'moods,' and in a hurry this was the name that Rachael and her brother lovingly bestowed upon her.

Slightly out of breath Sharon asked, "Where's your brother?"

"At Keith's house," Rach giggled slightly to her self, as she watched her mom try to pile everything she held on to the hall table.

Taking pity on the frantic brunette, Rachael grabbed the coat and briefcase precariously balanced on an outstretched hand. No sooner had she taken the burden from her mother, than the woman in question turned and sprinted up the stairs. Rachael, dumbstruck, looked after the woman who claimed to be her mother, and then smiled slowly as she heard her mother's stereo click on, the sultry tones of _Sway _wafting deliciously down the stairs.

_Ah_, she grinned to her self, _Mom has a date_.

Hanging the coat up in the closet and setting the briefcase carefully on the ground next to the table, Rachael turned on her heel and practically bounded up the stairs.

When she reached the door to her mother's room it was slightly cracked and she could see the silhouette of her mother moving at an alarming pace. She took a deep breath, and then casually walked into the bedroom, glancing around and finding the brunette in question had disappeared. She saw the door to the walk in closet slightly ajar, a light filtering from the crack and could hear a few choice words as well. She decided to make her self comfortable on the queen size bed and wait.

A few seconds later her mother appeared from behind said door, clad only in her skirt from the day and black satin bra, looking flushed and nervous.

Sharon quickly glanced up and connected eyes with her grinning daughter, jumping slightly.

"Jesus, Rach," she exclaimed, "You scared me!"

Rachael couldn't help but ogle her mother, she was beautiful after all, well toned and shaped in all the right areas. She certainly had a body to defy her age; she couldn't fathom looking that way when she became her mother's age.

_If I'm lucky_, she snorted to her self.

"Well I was curious as to what would have my very prim and proper mother, so out of sorts," she batted her eyelashes playfully.

"I'm not out of sorts," Sharon denied as she made her way in the bathroom, her voice carrying into the outer room as she began to touch up her make up.

Rachael smirked as her mother continued to talk, "I'm just…ner…errr…flushed." She couldn't help the snicker that escaped her at her mother's slip.

"There was bad accident on the way home...kept me cooped up in the car…you know how I am, I hate to sit." Sharon huffed.

_Sure_, Rachael thought to her self.

"Anyway," her mother was a master at changing the subject, "how was your day?" she called from the bathroom.

"I took a personal health day," Rachael shot back, "I needed one after my day yesterday." She muttered more to herself.

"That's wonderful sweetheart," Sharon cooed as she reentered the room.

Rachael was relieved, her mother looked less like Captain Raydor and the frantic woman who entered the house fifteen minutes ago, and more like her mom. Sharon had washed her face and reapplied makeup, less severe and more natural. She had used charcoal eyeliner and pale lavender to brighten her eyes. A soft pressed powder and faint blush completed the picture.

Gone was the severe straight hair of Captain Raydor, and in its place were the soft curls of Sharon Raydor, which hung loosely about her shoulders. Rachael loved her mother's hair this way, its what she always equated with her childhood, long nights with her nose buried in her mother's neck and her tiny hands gripped tightly in the silky tresses.

"Will you help me pick something out?" Sharon pleaded with her daughter as she glanced quickly at the clock on the bedside table that ominously read six fifty-six.

Rachael smiled slyly at her mother, "Well I need to know for what occasion…"

The older brunette looked up at the ceiling exasperated, and then returned her gaze to her daughter.

"Dinner with an old friend," Sharon offered hurriedly.

Rachael scooted off the bed and walked ceremoniously into the closet. As she rummaged through the many color-coordinated clothes in her mothers closet, she couldn't help but grin at the nervous twinge in her mother's confession, and couldn't help but poke fun at her.

"Like a dinner date?" Rachael questioned innocently.

"NO!" her mother answered quickly…too quickly, and Rachael chuckled to her self.

"Whatever you say Mom," she intoned.

All she could hear from her position in the closet was her mother's groan and the sound of the doorbell ringing simultaneously.

"Hurry," she heard he mother urge, "He's here!"

Crying triumphantly, Rachael snagged the garment she had been looking for along with the proper accessories, and quickly exited the closet. As she shut the door she promptly shoved her findings in her mother's arms and kissed her cheek.

"You finish up," Rachael suggested, "and I'll stall him."

"But…." Sharon said only to be cut off by her overly eager daughter.

"No worries Mom," Rachael had a grin so wide that Sharon could have sworn her face was going to split in two, "I've got this."

And with that Rachael was off, out the door and down the stairs. Shaking her dismissively, Sharon held up the outfit her daughter had picked and groaned. _Too late to change it now_, she thought wearily to her self.

She carefully unzipped the skirt ad shimmied it off her hips to pile on the floor, kicking it towards the dirty clothes hamper. Slowly, so as not to muss her hair, she slipped the dress over her head, smoothing the fabric over her bust line and down over her hips. She looked at her self uneasily in the mirror; the dress in question wasn't quite what she had imagined for tonight.

Teetering precariously as she balanced on one foot, she grasped the edge of her dresser as she first she slipped on one boot and then the other, zipping them both up at once. Snatching the brown belt off the plush bed, she laid it about her waist with a flourish as she fastened the notches. Giving her self a once over in the mirror, she had to give Rachael credit; the color definitely complemented her hair and skin color.

Before she could think better of it, she shook her head a little tousling the curls, making sure her hair was cooperating. Then she selected her favorite perfume, dusting her neck, hair, and wrists, while applying a sheer gloss to her full lips. She turned towards her bedroom door with more confidence than she felt and sighed.

_I guess it's now or never…_

At the third ring of the doorbell Rachael was beginning to think this gentleman was just a little too eager to take her mother out….

She finally reached the door and heaved the heavy piece of wood open, a welcoming smile enveloping her face. When her eyes connected with the intended recipient her smile fell just as quickly as it had appeared. She knew it had been replaced by a look of complete shock and horror, if the way he slightly winced was any way to judge.

There stood a face she never imagined she would see again…someone who had hurt her mother so deeply. He was dressed casually, apparently for a night out on the town with HER mother. He had worn a nice pair of dark wash jeans carefully paired with a sky blue polo shirt, accented by the black loafers on his feet and the navy blazer slung over his shoulder. She carefully schooled her features into a calm and aloof mask.

"Detective Flynn," Rachael greeted coolly.

Andy Flynn grinned his same boyish grin then cheekily, amused by how much the younger woman resembled her mother, down to the chilling Raydor glare.

He drawled a greeting to Rachael, "Good to see you again Little One."

At the mention of her childhood nickname she bristled slightly. Thankfully they were saved from any more small talk by the soft sound of her mother's boot heels treading down the stairs.

They both simultaneously turned to watch as Sharon Raydor descended down the stairs. Rachael couldn't help but smile at her mother, and giggle as she heard the audible gasp from the man next to her.

She had chosen a soft gauzy, cotton peasant dress in a shade of pale green; it had half sleeves and came to a few inches above Sharon's knees. The neckline was modest and sexy at the same time; it barely ghosted the tops of Sharon's breasts, but was decorated with intricate lace. The color to compliment her mother's eyes and the length to well…highlight her mother's mile long legs; well that was before she knew who her mother's date was to be.

The flowing dress was paired with a chocolate brown belt that rested below Sharon's bust line, creating the illusion of an empire waist. The brown knee high boots showed off her nicely toned calves and gave her a little more in the height department. Although as she cast a side long at the man beside her, now she felt the urge to just cover everything up.

Detective Flynn was speechless, and Rachael had to admit, maybe a touch embarrassed of his reaction. As her mother came down the last few steps, Andy cleared his throat and smiled nervously.

"You look amazing," he blurted out to Sharon and then had the good graces to look hesitantly towards Rachael.

She responded thoughtfully, "I couldn't agree more Mom."

"Well aren't you two full of compliments tonight?" Sharon deflected the compliments easily, hiding her shy smile as she reached for her purse.

Rachael moved out of the way and stood silhouetted in the doorway of the living room. She watched cautiously as Andy helped her mother slip into her navy trench coat and scarf, when a realization hit her square in the face.

_When was the last time Mom had been truly happy?_

As she watched the interaction between her mother and Detective Flynn, the shy smiles from her mother and the longing glances from Andy, she realized not since he had left. Yes, she had gone on and done what needed to be done, but had she actually lived these last few years? She knew the answer to that, of course.

_No…not as she should have anyway._

It was then in that instance that all the uneasiness and resentment she felt for Detective Flynn, suddenly melted away. She might not have understood or liked the way things had ended between these two adults, but that was just it. They were adults and as such didn't have to answer for they're past mistakes or present fantasies. Even if they couldn't see it, Rachael knew that there was something more to this 'date with an old friend.' Smiling conspiratorially to her self, Rachael was brought out of her revelry by her mother's voice.

"Rach, did you hear what I said?" her mother questioned slightly irritated.

"Sorry Mom, I wasn't paying attention," she shrugged.

Sharon rolled her eyes, "I said that I'll have my cell on me the entire time and wont be back until late," she paused to judge her daughter's reaction, "so don't wait up."

The younger brunette waited a couple beats, while the two adults watched her nervously, but then her face began to blossom into a wide smile.

"Sure thing, just don't wake me when you get in," she replied flippantly as she turned on her heel and walked into the living room with a dismissive flick of her hand.

As she plopped back down on to the over stuffed couch she listened carefully for the click of the lock on the front door then rushed excitedly to the front window. Crouching down so as not to be seen, she watched as Andy walked her mother around to the passenger door and with a flourish held the door open for her. Making sure she was situated he carefully closed the door and jogged around to the driver's side.

Rachael sank down to the carpet with her back against the paneling of the wall, and slipped her cell phone out of her pocket. Calling up a new template for a text message she addressed it to Jesse then typed out a quick message.

'_You will __**NEVER **__guess who just picked up our mother for a date….'_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you guys all for being so patient, especially all of you who keep reviewing, it really makes my day to see them in my inbox :))**_

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><p>Every so often Andy would cast a sidelong glance in Sharon's direction, but she seemed so deep in thought that he could have stopped the car in the middle of the freeway and she would have continued to stare out the window as the cars whooshed by.<p>

Her posture was perfectly erect; legs and arms crossed defensively, and a faraway look in her eyes, one that suggested that she in fact wasn't in the car with him. He caught her cautiously lifting her right hand to her mouth as she nervously worried her fingernail and he smirked to himself.

_Old habits die hard_, he surmised.

He quietly cleared his throat, "So…how was the rest of your day?"

Sharon snapped her head around and glanced at him as if she forgot he was in the car.

"Honestly?" she questioned as she raised her hand to rub her forehead, "Full of paperwork and more paperwork, I was finally allowed a reprieve at lunch."

He nodded his head sympathetically, "I know the feeling, and it seems to me that I signed more papers today than William Shatner at a Star Trek convention."

Sharon burst out laughing at the ridiculous vision she concocted. It was a well-known fact that Andy despised the original television series, and all the pompous brass that went with the famous actor. Although truth be told he did admire the newer ones, especially one with a certain female captain….

"Awww poor baby," she cooed playfully, "You actually had to work for a change?"

Andy glanced in her direction with a pout, "I'll have you know I work all the time, I just hate the business end of the paper work."

Sharon hummed, "I never would have guessed…who normally does it for you, Provenza?" she questioned.

"Exactly." Andy confirmed.

It suddenly went quiet in the car, Andy could feel Sharon's eyes intently focused on him and cast a quick look in her direction. The look of mock horror that was plastered on her face made his burst out laughing, so hard he had to catch his breath before he could continue.

"What?" he gasped out, "I run and he does the paperwork," he shrugged.

She chuckled quietly to herself, "Sounds like the ideal partnership to me," her ever-present smirk hovered at the corners of her mouth.

It was a few heartbeats of silence before Sharon began to fear that she had something that she necessarily shouldn't have. With a cautious shift of her head she looked at Andy sitting in the driver's seat, tight lipped and tight gripped on the steering wheel, so tight in fact his knuckles were beginning to turn white.

When he spoke she almost didn't recognize his voice, low and devoid of emotion.

"Not quite," he sighed, "I've had that before and trust me, my relationship with Provenza isn't even in the same league." He finished softly.

She felt her mouth drop open in complete shock, then suddenly she snapped her head forward and closed her mouth.

_Good job Sharon_, she thought to herself, _way to stick your foot in your mouth_.

The rest of the ride was deathly quiet, each party meticulously contemplating the fate of this evening, yet each hoping for the same outcome.

Andy smoothly pulled the car up to the curb outside the dimly lit restaurant, slowing to a stop then carefully exiting the car. He circled around the back of the car coming to rest outside Sharon's door. She could see him compose himself, his chest expanding with a deep inhale and then shrinking with the release.

As he opened the passenger door he graced Sharon with a genuine smile, one that truly reached his eyes; she responded in kind with a shy smile all her own. The cold air that invaded the car made her shiver, but it wasn't until he laid his warm palm on her lower back in an achingly familiar gesture that the goose bumps erupted on her flesh.

That warm palm stayed connected to her lower back through all his administrations, slowly and deliberately drawing circles with his thumb. As he handed the valet his keys, as they walked through the liberally decorated foyer, and until he reluctantly removed it so she could seat herself in the romantic booth they were presented, his hand never left the comfort of Sharon's body. When he removed the hand she felt a stab of disappointment at the loss of physical contact, but she then admonished herself.

_Stop it!_

_ Dinner with an old friend, remember?_

Sharon slid into the snug booth effortlessly, daintily crossing her legs under the table as Andy sat down opposite of her with a flourish.

Shaking her head wearily, she chose that moment to glance around at their surroundings and investigate. The restaurant itself was quaint and small, but seemed just as lively; it wasn't busy per say, but it did seem to have a steady stream of customers. Herself and Andy were situated towards the back of the open dining room in a cozy rounded booth for two.

The whole establishment seemed to be situated around a live band in the middle of the dinning hall that was on a raised pedestal. Around said band was the gleaming gold wood of a dance floor where a few couples seemed to be enjoying themselves immensely. Each table was perfectly set with a single candle in the middle, whose flame stood out brightly in contrast to the red petals of roses arranged around it. Sharon watched mesmerized as the flame danced, casting long shadows on the table and highlighting the gold flecks in the brown of her dinner companion's eyes.

The ambient lighting and sultry notes wafting from the guitar suggested that this restaurant wasn't exactly designed for a 'dinner with an old friend/lover." That one thought frightened her greatly.

"What exactly is this place called?" she wondered as she continued to glance around.

Andy deftly handed her a menu as he began to explain, "Its called _Strings_, and its one of the best pasta places I've ever eaten in."

Sharon smiled a thanks as she took the menu from his hand, opening it slightly.

"I found it a few years back on a night where I just needed to be alone," he continued staring a Sharon contently as she obliviously studied the menu. He followed the lines of her cheekbones to her perfectly formed lips, and then down the graceful slope of her neck, admiring how her hail curled perfectly against pale skin and into the valley of her breasts.

She hummed; "Yes well you certainly found the perfect spot…" she trailed off as she noticed him staring at her intently.

Embarrassed to be caught red handed, he quickly looked down to his own menu and busied himself with finding the perfect entrée. Sharon glanced back down and smirked, silently pleased with his attention.

The waiter arrived and introduced himself, flowing right into the chef's choice for the night and any special worth considering. Andy seemed to be listening in depth while Sharon studied him instead, he definitely was in his element, she surmised. Ordering himself a cranberry and soda he gestured for Sharon to go next.

Glancing at the list of wines Sharon chose a red merlot from two-thousand and three, politely asking for the biggest glass available. Andy chuckled quietly to himself, but apparently not quietly enough for she had heard him.

"Why is that amusing?" she said with an elegant raise of her eyebrow.

Andy weighed the options: he could a) compare her to the Chief and inevitably end this dinner sooner than he would like, or b) play it off as if it was just one of his many quirks. Option b definitely held more merit, but he couldn't help jostling her just a little.

"Oh nothing," he said a little too innocently, "You just reminded me of someone I know."

She tilted her head to the side with curiosity but he was saved from her interrogation as the waiter arrived with their drink order. He proceeded to ask the couple if they were indeed ready to order and Andy inclined his head to Sharon, motioning for her to go first. She ordered a garden salad and a light entrée of spinach raviolis in a light white wine sauce, whereas he ordered a garden salad as well and the chicken primavera, the house special for the night.

After the waiter left to start their order, Sharon sipped her wine while Andy stared intently at her yet again, but this time he seemed to have a purpose. The third time today that he had managed to unnerve her.

She cleared her throat nervously, "What are you staring at?"

"The beautiful woman I am fortunate enough to have as my dinner companion for this evening," he drawled slowly, "and wondering when she's finally going to be honest with me."

"I don't…" she paused at the unexpected sting of tears. Staring down at her hands folded in her lap she composed her self enough to look Andy in the eye while she answered him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she managed.

"Red," he began then quickly amended as her saw her bristle at the nickname, "Sharon, you and I both know you need to talk about it."

_Damn him!_ she thought as she locked eyes with his unflinching gaze.

Taking a long draught from her wine she replied stonily, "I'm fine."

"Bullshit," he said it so blatantly that she believed that she had misheard him.

"Excuse me?" Andy tried not to flinch at the Captain Raydor tone that now infused her voice, icy and hard.

"You heard me, bullshit," he reiterated, "I have known you long enough to know when you are lying…."

"You don't know a thing about me," she interrupted.

Yet Andy kept going as if Sharon had never spoke, "and I know you are not alright, in fact to me you seem a little shaken up."

He could feel her leg jumping wildly underneath the table as she pumped it up and down relentlessly; it was another habit she hadn't been able to quit in their years apart.

Sharon stared at Andy, her eyes a sharp and piercing jade, a color he associated over the years with her anger. He watched as an internal battle raged within her, until finally one side seemed to dominate the other.

"You want to know how I feel?" her voice was low, dangerous he reminded himself. He absentmindedly nodded his head although she didn't require a direct answer.

"I feel used," she began, "Under appreciated…devastated, angry, sad, oblivious," and then suddenly there was no stopping the words that poured forth from Sharon Raydor's mouth.

"Honestly no one single emotion can really cover it," she took a shaky breath, "Have you ever had your trust and good nature so blatantly abused?"

Another rhetorical question, and at his questioning gaze she chuckled, but it came out hollow and devoid of humor.

"Of course not," she said practically to herself, "What you don't understand is that all of my detectives in my department were briefed of my…. situation."

At this Andy's eyes widened in shock as he looked at the woman who sat across from him. She nodded her head robotically as she held his gaze, the hint of wetness around the edges of her eyes the only precursor to tears.

"Yeah that's right," she intoned as she struggled to keep the tears away, "I trusted Detective Moore, and she used the one thing against me she knew I could never, with a good conscience, back away from."

He watched in amazement as Sharon finally let the tears fall. It was like a floodgate, as soon s the first tear made its way down and across her cheekbones the rest followed. He didn't think, he just reacted, carefully scooting around the circular booth; he enveloped the broken woman in his arms.

When Sharon felt Andy's arms encircled her shoulders she felt at home and the urge to run all at the same time. She tried to push off of his chest but the harder she fought, the firmer his hold on her became until she finally relented.

Andy finally felt Sharon surrender and let out a sigh of relief as her tiny arms wrapped around his waist. She hid her face in the junction of his neck and shoulder, clinging to his back for dear life; as if she let go she would melt away. He stroked her hair gently and whispered soothing words of praise and love, mending her wounded soul, as her sobs wracked her petite frame.

A few moments later he felt the sobs easing in intensity and her grip growing slack, he then felt her shuffle a little away from him. Looking decidedly embarrassed, she wiped her face with her napkin, all the time never connecting eyes with Andy. Seeking to allay her fears he gently cupped her chin and titled her face up towards his own.

Although her eyes were red and swollen from crying, as were her lips and nose, her cheeks stained with the tracks of her tears, he decided in that moment that she had never looked more beautiful. He leaned in just a fraction hoping she would meet him halfway, and was startled find her leaning in as well. He became lost in her eyes so bright that they seemed almost to be green-grey, the tiny laugh lines gone as she stared at him in wonder.

They were so close that he could practically taste the merlot on her breathe, feel the softness of her lips that he had missed all these years…

When the waiter arrived at their table with both of their meals. Sharon jumped back from Andy so fast he would swear she had burned her self on the candle in the centerpiece. Trying not to take it personally, to not show how wounded her reaction made him feel, he began to slide back to his side of the booth when she reached out and fiercely grabbed his hand. Startled, he looked from their intertwined hands up to her face only to gasp breathlessly. The look on Sharon's face was one of promise and dare he say it… love?

Their eyes connected for what seemed like a lifetime, but it was merely seconds before she shyly smiled and let go of Andy's hand to dive into her meal. Taking a bite of her salad then a drink of her wine, she winked enthusiastically at him over the rim of her glass.

_Hmmm_, he grinned, _a good day indeed._


	10. Chapter 10

_**Sorry for such a long time in between uploads, unfortunately reality called me back for a while...although you all will be pleased to know that I'm already in the process of writing the next chapter! Enjoy :))**_

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><p>The drive back to Sharon's house was filled yet again with silence, but this one was far more comfortable than the one they endured on the way to the restaurant. Andy was leant back in his seat casually his left hand cautiously steering the car while his right hand was inevitably preoccupied with soft skin of Sharon's upper thigh. Although she was relaxed in the passenger seat, Sharon's hands were not idle either, she was busying herself with skin on the back of Andy's hand, tracing the veins and learning each curve.<p>

It seemed that they had come to a mutual agreement in the restaurant, one that they equally respected. They seemed to speak to each other, even though words were unnecessary…they would try this again, albeit slowly.

Sharon felt as if no time had passed at all, as if they were back in her bedroom on that fateful night. So much time had been wasted, so many precious memories they had gone without, all because of her sense of selflessness. How she wished she could make it up to him, to make everything right.

She was suddenly thrust back into reality when she felt his hand gently squeeze her thigh. She slowly turned her head as he locked eyes with her then quickly turned back to the road, an encouraging smile spreading across his features.

Then he spoke as if reading her mind, "Its all in the past, lets put it behind us and live in the now."

She smiled shyly as he punctuated his words with another gentle squeeze which she returned readily, "I'm trying, I really am…its just hard, you know?"

He nodded in understanding as he continued to survey the dark road ahead of them, as she shifted in the passenger seat.

They were no more than ten minutes from Sharon's home when he decided to broach a subject, or at this point he thought, a rumor that had been floating around head quarters all day. He decided that he could get the answer straight from the source and put it all to rest.

"So I heard something interesting today," he hedged cautiously.

"Hmmm," she hummed in thought and then looked at him from the corner of her eye, " and what would that be?"

He shrugged, "Just a scuttlebutt…ridiculous actually," he hesitated, "about who you hired as your new detective."

Sharon felt her heart drop into her stomach with dread, but her outward appearance never faltered, she wasn't the head of FID for nothing.

"What exactly did you hear?"

He laughed, amused, "That you convinced Daniels to come home."

Andy waited for her uproarious laughter, or at the very least her chuckle of amusement. When all he was met with was a strained silence he began to worry.

_Maybe it wasn't a rumor…_

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Sharon looking at her lap intently, while trying to find a comfortable position in this uncomfortable predicament.

Without thinking he let the first thing that came to mind fly out of his mouth.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

He felt the mood darken and shift, as if it was literally sucked out of the cabin of his car; every muscle in her body stiffened as well as every hair on her head stood on edge. Suddenly he found his hand on the upholstery of his passenger seat as he realized she had shifted her body away from his. They were no longer touching and she was no longer facing his direction; she was instead staring directly out the window, arms once again crossed defensively across her chest.

He sighed inwardly, as he conjured up the rough and dirt encrusted taste of his own foot in his mouth.

_I worked so hard tonight…_

"That came out all wrong…"

She cut him off, spearing him with a glare, "How exactly was it meant to come out?"

He cringed inwardly as he heard the sharp lilt to her words, as if she was preparing for battle.

He shrugged, "All I want to know is why her?"

"Why not her?" Sharon shot back without missing a beat; he could feel the anger rolling off her in waves.

Andy bristled at her tone, "You know EXACTLY why not her!"

"She is both qualified and interested in the job, why wouldn't I want her?" She explained, she then rolled her eyes in frustration, "Oh I see…are you afraid its going to hurt the Chief's pride?"

Andy's grip on the wheel tightened a little more with anger, Sharon sensed she had obviously hit a nerve.

"That's it, isn't it? Afraid to upset the department Princess," she realized this was totally uncalled for, but as of right now Sharon had enough of the Southern Barbie.

Why should she have to defend her position to anyone, especially Andy? It was her department and she would do what she saw fit, even if it meant possibly making a few enemies along the way.

"At least the 'Princess' has our interests at heart," he paused as if debating whether to continue, "and wouldn't abandon her partner."

Sharon felt those words as if they had hit her square in the chest; they knocked the wind from her lungs and made it hard to catch her breath. She could feel her hold on her emotions slowly spiraling out of control, and watched on in horror as she could do noting about it.

"I had no choice…" she began her voice hoarse, but it was Andy's turn to cut her off as his anger rose.

"You see Sharon that's where you and I differ, in my opinion you had a choice," his hands began to gesticulate wildly as he became even more agitated, "you just chose to take the coward's way out!"

By this time Sharon was fighting to keep the tears in her eyes at bay, and to control the erratic gasping breaths that were escaping her throat. Just when she felt her walls begin to crumble the welcome sight of her home came into view.

Determined to not let Andy see her breakdown, to not let him have that satisfaction, she pursed her lips and wiped furiously at the tears that had escaped down her cheeks.

_ How can I be so stupid!_

_ Nothing's changed!_

He had barely put the car into park when she practically bailed out of the passenger side. Grabbing her clutch and glasses in hand, she let the door slam shut and set off in a brisk walk to her front door. She had every intention of slamming the front door right in his face and then crawling up her stairs to her bedroom. Once she was there she would let the tears flow, let the hurt consume her.

"Don't you walk away from me again!" she heard him order from behind her.

He never saw it coming, although even if he had he wasn't sure he would have been able to dodge Sharon's palm as it landed on the side of his face. He was momentarily at a loss for words, as he felt rather then saw Sharon fuming in front of him.

_How had she managed that?_ he thought.

As his vision cleared, he was able to take in her face. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks for the second time that night. The only difference was that these were no longer tears of sadness and healing, they were tears of anger and resentment. Along with the tears were her sharp green eyes staring through the lenses of her glasses, seeing through him and into his soul.

"How dare you!" she whispered angrily.

He couldn't help but lash out, "Truth hurts doesn't it?"

If it was possible, she pursed her lips even tighter against one another; he could see her visibly shaking.

_Oh this is not going to end well._

"Ok, fine." She spat, "I'm the coward."

She shook her head and clenched her fists; "I'm the coward because I let some one beat me for the better part of two years!" she advanced on him.

"I'm a coward because I stayed in said relationship for fear for my children." She shook her head angrily, "Then was nearly beaten to death when I decided to leave, but you're right I'm the coward!"

"I let myself get close to someone who ultimately betrayed me in the end," she was practically screaming now," And I'm the coward because not only did I transfer departments, but for once I put myself first. I did it to achieve a better life for my family and I."

She took a shuddering breath, the tears were coming faster now, "I'm sorry that I ruined YOUR plans for the future Andy, I'm sorry I hurt YOU Andy, and I'm sorry I ever agreed to this date…or whatever it was supposed to be," she made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

Andy looked at the obviously angry woman in front of him, but instead of anger he saw sorrow and fear. He didn't mean for this to go this far, she certainly didn't deserve to be called out in this fashion.

"You don't mean that…"

She turned on him yet again, "Oh yes I do!"

Andy saw red, his anger resurfacing at her petulant tone, "First of all, you were the one to call it quits, so yes excuse me if it hurts, but you ran!"

Sharon looked at him with a look of disbelief, "For someone who once said they loved me," he heard her voice break at this, "you didn't try very hard to keep me."

She was right he knew but he couldn't help the resentment he felt, "If I forced you to stay, I would have been no better than…" he paused, " him."

Sharon wiped her face on her sleeve and then tossed her head up to look toward the night sky. After a few moments she seemed to come back down to Earth and locked eyes with Andy. Gone was the Sharon Raydor he had know for so long and in her place was the steely Captain of FID, the woman that no one seemed to know that well.

"What stopped you from making amends three…five…or ten years later?" she quietly inquired.

She let him mull her words over for a few moments, when all she encountered was his silence she took things into her own hands. She pretended to think for a moment, and then as a realization dawned on her a smirk crossed her lips.

"Oh I remember! Its easier to make cruel remarks about me behind my back then to face the fallout of our friendship!"

Andy's nostrils flared with anger as he stared at her incredulously, "It's a two way street Sharon and you know it…what is your excuse?"

Sharon looked down at her feet for a few seconds; she seemed to be composing herself, pulling her self together he thought. When she finally raised her head again she looked Andy straight in the eye as she replied, her voice steady and strong, no trace of the emotions that threatened to consume her earlier.

"How would you feel if your best friend for years, the one who had taken you under his wing, had all but banished you from the one place in the world you felt you belonged?"

She shook her head in frustration, "You think I didn't know it was you who started all the rumors and the name calling?"

"Why would I ever want to re-kindle any type of relationship with you, when you so obviously didn't respect me or even like me?" she questioned.

Then she said something that cut Andy to the core, "I've already been in an abusive and degrading relationship, I don't intend to be trapped in another."

With that omission Andy was at a loss for words, he had never thought of it that way. In his mind it had always been Sharon who had called it quits, she had been the one to shatter their perfect world. Now he could see that he was just as much to blame as she was.

"Exactly." She stated when he didn't answer.

Sharon looked back at her front door, and then up to the windows of the second floor. She could see that the landing light was on and what she could have sworn was Rachael's head disappearing from sight.

_Great,_ she thought tiredly, _now I have to explain this to my children._

As she turned back to Andy she rubbed her hand over her forehead in an attempt to soothe the oncoming headache. She noticed that he was standing, ashamedly, in front of her almost afraid to meet her eyes.

"Maybe too many years have passed and too much water has rushed by under the bridge," she began somewhat calmed, "And maybe, just maybe, this never bloomed for a very good reason."

Andy hung his head in defeat, unable to reconcile the finality of Sharon's words, hoping against all hope that this would not be how the night ended.

"I'm going to end this discussion here for tonight," his head snapped up at her Captain's tone, "Thank you for the dinner Lieutenant, and have a good rest of your evening."

Sharon spun on her heel intending to walk with as much dignity as she could muster, up to and through her front door. When she suddenly felt a hand clamp on the muscle of her upper arm, causing her to drop her belongings. She felt his fingertips digging in sharply.

She felt her self freeze, the old feeling of being trapped resurfacing, and along with it the memories that fueled her nightmares. She could feel her heartbeat and respiration speed up as she fought to rip her arm from Andy's grip. Her palms began to sweat, and the unreasonable feeling of dread rose in her throat like bile.

Rationally she knew that he would never hurt her, that he was incapable of doing so…he was the one who brought her back from the abyss. Although old habits die-hard and Sharon had been the victim too many times to not have an adverse reaction to being man handled.

Quick as a flash Andy spun her around so that they were face to face and without thinking, crushed his mouth ruthlessly on top of hers. HE wanted to convey everything with that one kiss, all the longing and regret he felt all the way down to his soul. He needed her to know, wanted her to feel.

For what seemed like an eternity the only thing he felt was the softness of her lips and the headiness that was their shared breaths. He didn't want her to walk away, it couldn't possibly end this way, and they deserved so much more.

_Too quick!_ she managed to think.

_Too rough!_

_ Too close!_

She recoiled the moment their bodies touched, his embrace around her shoulders to tight, suffocating her. She felt her self begin to hyperventilate, the constriction beginning in her chest and radiating through all the appendages of her body; the more she struggled for distance the tighter his grip on her body became. She suddenly became desperate in her effort for him to release her, she NEEDED to get away, needed to fight or give flight. She began to struggle even harder against his hold.

It was then that Andy registered the pressure on his chest, and the fact that it wasn't coming from Sharon's body, but yet her hands frantically trying to push him away. She was practically clawing at the front of his shirt, trying with all her might to put distance between their bodies.

When he finally registered what she was saying it shattered his heart.

"No!" she begged and pleaded, her voice cracking with intermittent fear, "Please! No!"

She was babbling now and didn't seem to be coherent; as if she was in her own little world, plagued by her own personal demons. Andy loosened his grip on her upper body, showering her with soothing words, trying to bring a calm to her soul he knew he couldn't provide.

With a final shove, Sharon sent herself sprawling backwards on to the walk way that lead to her house. He stared at her as she formed a protective cocoon around herself, drawing her legs up to her chest, burying her face in her knees and sobbing helplessly.

All the while Andy could hear frantic cries mixed with heartbroken whimpers in the form of desperate pleas to leave her alone.

"No…. no…p…p...please don't touch me!" he cringed at the vulnerability in her voice.

Andy started to move toward her when the crunch of earth under his feet startled Sharon, causing her head to snap up. She stared up at Andy with what he could only describe as abject horror. Her normally immaculate hair was tangled and hanging limply over her shoulders; her deeply expressive eyes were large and widening with fear in her pale face.

Sharon's lips were a white almost translucent hue, the color had seemed to leave every surface of her body, and her cheeks had an almost green pallor to them. Andy could see her heart hammering against her ribcage as her chest rose with a vigorous speed, trying to accommodate her runaway lungs.

She was so preoccupied that she didn't notice that her dress had risen well above her knees, exposing naked skin to his eyes. As he bent down to offer her a hand up, she scuttled backwards with an agility born of fear and adrenalin, recoiling at his very touch. Shaken to his core by Sharon's reaction, Andy swiftly withdrew his hand and stared at her, silently asking for forgiveness for the damage he had managed to inflict on her.

Shaking her head back and forth forcefully, he could see the battle she was waging within herself. Not sure which side was winning, when suddenly without any warning Sharon seemed to come to a decision. Sharon snatched up her clutch and glasses from where they had fallen in the dirt and clamped her hand over her mouth, running up the steps to her front door.

Without looking at the broken man left standing in her front yard, she reached out for the knob of the door, yet finding it already slowly opening. Sharon gave no thought as to who was on the other side and barreled straight on through slamming the heavily ornate wooden door.

The only thing that stopped her from sprinting up the stairs was the soft and pliant body of what she assumed was her daughter. As she felt soft arms wrap around her torso, she felt her legs give way and they both slid down the front door to the floor.

Sharon couldn't curl far enough in on her self; she wanted to be as small as possible, to ultimately disappear, but her wonderfully patient daughter wouldn't let that happen.

She felt Rachael's soft lips nuzzling through her hair to place soothing kisses upon the crown of her head.

"Its ok," she heard her daughter murmur as she took up a gentle rocking rhythm, trying to comfort without restriction.

Dipping her chin to catch her mother's gaze, Rachael's eyes immediately widened with concern. She took in the pale complexion, tracks of tears and then finally the sobs that seemed to wrack the older woman's body.

"Oh Mom…what happened?"


	11. Chapter 11

_**Sorry guys, finals, finals, and more finals at school...it seems that all my teachers decided to assign huge projects in the last few weeks of the semester. This chapter was extremely hard for me to write, although I am proud of it. Anyway...enjoy ;)**_

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><p>Rachael couldn't remember the last time she had slept in her mother's bed...maybe it had been when she was about fourteen and was stood up at the homecoming dance. She had been so upset, inconsolable really, when Sharon had picked her up. So upset that when they got home she ran up the stairs, past her own room and into her mother's.<p>

She could remember shucking off the lavender dress they had shopped for specially and burrowing under the covers. She remembered listening to the quiet footfalls of her mother steadily climbing the stairs as they came closer. Then she had felt the bed dip slightly as Sharon sat against the pillows next to her.

She remembered her mother gently pulling back the duvet, essentially stripping away Rachael's armor and resolve with it. She remembered her mother gently extracting the bobby pins from her hair, smoothing it out against the pillow. Slowly shoving the covers aside, Sharon then slowly crawled in next to her daughter whispering soft nothings and kissing the crown of her head.

Rachael slowly turned under the covers to curl into her softness, one hand tangled in her mother's riotous curls and the other going slowly around her waist. She could remember how dejected her voice sounded as she sobbed to her mother, how broken this particular boy made her feel.

_He didn't even call_, she wailed.

Her mother kissed the tears on her cheek, _I know Little One…I know._

_ Why Mama? _she questioned desperately_, Why?_

_ I'm not sure baby, _Sharon stated as she stroked her daughter's hair_._

As Rachael stared at her reflection in the mirror, now four years older, she couldn't help be amazed that had truly been the last time.

_Had it really been that long?_

The soft whimper that escaped the women curled up next to her brought her out of her silent musings. Looking down at the form curled under the covers, Rachael couldn't help but feel a sense of worry. Sharon Raydor normally looked younger while she slept, the ever-present laugh lines would disappear along with the other worries, but here…in this moment, she seemed tense and fearful. The furrow between her eyebrows seemed to be more pronounced as she moved in fitfully in her sleep. Rachael placed a reassuring hand on her mother's back rubbing soft circles, then looked back to her reflection in the mirror.

The quiet creak of her mother's bedroom door drew her attention as she turned her head slowly, a small smile crept across her lips as she saw the auburn head of her brother appear. As he silently padded closer to the bed, clad in a grey t-shirt ad black basketball shorts, Rachael could tell despite the cheeky smile on his face that he was deeply concerned about their mother. It was the first she had seen of him since this whole situation had begun.

He sat down softly on the bed, looking at the sleeping woman and then back up to his sister.

"How is she?"

Rachael sighed, "She seems to be resting…I'm not entirely sure."

Jesse Raydor may have been a tough no nonsense seventeen-year-old boy, but as Rachael watched him look down sadly at their mother, she saw the sweet little boy that had crept into her bed so many years ago. Whether it was from the fighting and loud noises, a scary story, or sometimes the occasional thunderstorm, he always managed to find his way to his sister's bed.

"What happened," he questioned quietly.

Just as her mother had said it was late when she and Andy had arrived back at their house. Jesse was already fast asleep, whereas she had been in her usual spot in the bay window studying for her calculus exam the next morning, when she heard the shouts coming from the front yard.

She had peaked out the window and witnessed the entire scene as it spiraled steadily out of control. She stood rooted to the spot and listened to the accusations flying back and forth between the two adults. But when her mother ceremoniously ended the conversation, had turned to walk away, she was shocked to see Andy reach out and forcefully grab Sharon.

Rachael waited a heartbeat, but when she saw Andy roughly kiss her mother, she new what was coming and untangled her self from the seat on the window. She scooted a little closer to the window and watched in horror as her mother began struggling against Andy's advances, he being totally oblivious.

Flying up from her seat under the window, she sprinted down the stairs, hoping against all hope that she could stop this before irreversible damage could be done.

Thinking back on it her pounding footsteps down the stairs must have been what woke Jesse. After her mother was safely in the door, and she was safely ensconced in her arms, she heard the quick footsteps of her brother coming down the stairs. He stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs as he saw his mother and sister crumpled just inside the door.

The look on his face would stay with Rachael for the rest of her life; he looked from his mother sobbing uncontrollably to his wide-eyed sister. Jesse's own face was pale and his green eyes, so like their mother's, seemed alien in his young face.

Seeming to come to his senses, he swiftly knelt by their side and proceeded to gently nudge Rachael out of the way, then like the knights in fairytales, scooped up his mother against his chest. He shifted his cargo so she was comfortable then turned wordlessly and carried Sharon up the stairs, leaving Rachael to lock up.

When she finally made it up the stairs to her mother's room, she noticed that the woman in question was tucked snuggly into bed, but Jesse was no where to be seen.

Shaking her head, Rachael decided he didn't need to know everything.

"I don't know Jess."

He nodded his head slightly, and then he connected eyes with his sister.

"Do you need a break?" he asked seriously.

Shifting against the headboard in a futile attempt to make herself more comfortable, she tried to hide her discomfort by laughing quietly.

"No I'm ok…I was going to study for a while longer anyway, you should be the one asleep."

His snort of amusement was achingly familiar, "Yeah right…don't you think we all need a day off tomorrow?"

Rachael inclined her head as she looked from her brother to their mother.

"I guess so…I doubt she'll head into work, and if that's the correct time," she hedged squinting at the clock across the room, " there's no way your going to be able to function at school tomorrow."

Jesse's grin seemed to lift the mood. As he rose carefully from the bed, he placed his hand encouragingly on the back of her neck and tried to knead away the tension he felt there. Rachael smiled slightly to herself as Jesse's gently pulled her head forward and laid a chaste kiss on her forehead, he was so much like their mother.

"Take it easy Rach," he intoned as he quietly exited the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

She let out a heavy sigh as she slowly sank into her mother's plush bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. As if she was five again, she turned on her side facing her mother, and content just feeling her presence, finally drifted off to sleep.

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><p><em>The house seemed quiet as she walked through the door, silently setting her purse and keys on the hall table. Glancing quickly at the clock she assumed the kids were already in bed…then where was Richard?<em>

_ Cautiously rounding the corner into the living room, Sharon came face to face with the man in question. He was seated in an overly stuffed armchair, swirling what seemed to be some sort of alcohol in a glass tumbler. His shirt was untucked from his pants, tie slightly askew, and hair unkempt as if he had been running his hands through it vigorously._

_ She could tell by the way he held himself that the glass in his hand wasn't the first, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. When he was like this he was unpredictable, she had learned over the last year. She unconsciously tugged down the sleeves of her blouse, all to aware of the new bruises he left on her forearms this morning._

_ "Where have you been?" he questioned, still not looking at her._

_ She hesitated, and then quietly…nervously cleared her throat._

_ "We got a call…the Chief asked me to go…"_

_ Mistake number one. Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say, because before the last word left her mouth Sharon found herself jerked roughly into Richard's lap. His hand gripping the back of her neck painfully, he would surely leave bruises, she had to make sure she left her hair down the rest of the week._

_ He bared his teeth as he snarled at her, "Do not lie to me!"_

_ She could smell the alcohol on his breath and it made her jerk backwards away from him…the smell repulsive. Mistake number two. _

_ She felt his fist clench in her hair, pulling viciously at her curls and forcing her to look back at his face. His eyes were wild with anger; she could feel his chest heaving beneath her._

_ "Please Richard…" she begged, "you're hurting me…p...p…please let go!"_

_ It was then that he gave her a cruel smile, roughly tugging her closer onto his lap, shoving her legs onto either side of his thighs. Tightening his grip in her hair while gripping her behind tightly, he forced her closer towards his body, splaying her legs wider making her wince in pain._

_ "Sweetheart," he drawled as his sinister grin widened, "I haven't even begun yet."_

_ Using his hand for leverage he urged her to lean her upper body closer towards him, his lips finding the v of her shirt and beneath that the valley of her breasts. He caressed her soft skin almost lovingly, and were it not for the immense pressure of his hands on her person, she could have been inclined to believe this act was in fact out of love. _

_ Sharon then felt him murmur something quietly against her skin, tensing slightly she held her breath as she dared to ask him to repeat himself._

_ "Do you love me?" he inquired, his lips resting against the swell of her breast._

_ She was worried by the tone in his voice, to any other person he might seem genuinely interested…maybe even sweet, but she knew that they were entering dangerous territory._

_ All of the sudden Sharon cried out in pain as she clamped her eyes shut. She saw stars behind her eyelids, the pain in her thighs or in the back of her head didn't compare to this. It was white hot and piercing…a stinging pain finally giving away to a deep burning sensation. _

_ Opening her eyes was a feat of its own, but when she inclined her head down she saw the angry red mark on the top of her left breast. It was raised and red, it seemed that he had broken the skin._

_ Feeling her eyes begin to water, she slowly raised her head eyes connecting with Richard's dark eyes._

_ "I asked you a question," he stated, "Do you love me?"_

_ She didn't get the chance to answer, as he roughly shoved her off his lap and watched her fall in to an undignified heap on the living room rug. She winced at the pain that shot through her legs and up her back from the rough fall. When Richard shifted in the chair Sharon watched in horror as he slowly slipped from the chair to kneel between her outstretched legs on the rug, and then proceeded to unbuckle his pants._

_ "Not very talkative tonight are we, hmmmm?" he inquired, "Well then you'll just have to show me."_

_ She closed her eyes, biting her lower lip as she felt the tears burning behind her lids; maybe she could go somewhere else… She felt his hands begin to skim over her calves to her knees to her thighs. Richard squeezed them painfully, making her whimper and open her eyes, tears pooling then slipping down her cheeks._

_ "You will not scream," he ordered, "because you will only make it worse for yourself…"_

_ Sharon heard the unsaid threat in his words loud and clear, she would do her best to heed his request. She felt his hands roughly ghosting over her body again, spreading the pain everywhere he touched. _

_ Then unexpectedly one of the sweetest sounds she had ever heard reached her ears, a soft and small tone muffled by what she assumed was his thumb in his mouth._

_ "Mommy?" a few beats, "Daddy?"_

_ Sharon's head jerked to the side so fast it was a wonder she didn't suffer from whiplash later. There at the bottom of the stairs stood Jesse, hair a mess from sleep yet his eyes were wide with fear and confusion. He slowly looked back and forth between his mother and father, not sure what was going on but knowing instinctually that it wasn't anything good._

_ Feeling the tension in the room, Jesse's eyes began to water with tears and then the sobs started. Then it became a piercing wail that seemed to go straight to the center of Sharon's heart._

_ Richard grudgingly got off of her, turning away from his wife and child, walking towards the bar in the corner of the room, zipping his pants as he went. _

_ Sharon on the other hand didn't hesitate to scramble to her feet, reaching Jesse in record time. Picking him up, she gently cradled him towards her chest, urging him to lay his head on her shoulder. _

_ "Its ok baby," she cooed, but Jesse only seemed to cry harder with accompanying hiccups._

_ "Shut him up or I will," Richard threatened, his eyes locking with Sharon's, she knew he meant every word._

_ Sharon cringed at the blatant hatred in Richard's eyes, as he regarded her and their son._

_ "He will stop…he will," she tried to reason, "Won't you Jesse?" _

_ But this only succeeded in making him scream louder, Jesse could feel deep in his heart that this was not right…_

_ "GOD DAMN IT!" Richard roared as he yanked Jesse from her arms._

Then Sharon woke up.

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><p>Sharon sat straight up in her bed with a loud gasp, shaking uncontrollably and feeling the sweat roll down her back to pool on the mattress. Taking deep breaths she looked around at her surroundings, not remembering exactly how she got to her bedroom. She bundled her hair in her fist as she lifted it from the back of her neck in an effort to cool her body. It had been a few years since she had last had a nightmare…let alone one this specific.<p>

Then she remembered, memories reaching her…the dinner, the car ride home, the fight, and then the kiss; although after that things became a little hazy. She shook her head in dismay and groaned.

_I can't believe I slapped him._

_ I can't believe I said those things to him._

She rubbed her forehead lightly trying to remember the rest…there was something else. She felt something at her side shift, and curious to what it was, she gently peeled the corner of the duvet back to reveal Rachael fast asleep.

_Well that explains how I got here._

She reached her hand out to carefully brush an errant curl off her daughter's forehead when it suddenly hit Sharon, making her face pale in her darkened bedroom.

_Oh...oh God…_

_ Oh God._

_ OH GOD!_

She had to get air…fresh air, now!

Carefully extracting her self from the covers, she slipped over the side of the bed crossing her room quietly. As she passed her dresser she grabbed her LAPD sweatshirt as an after thought. Slipping quickly through her bedroom door, she pulled it until she heard it softly click shut.

Sharon turned on her heel and softly but swiftly walked down the hallway to the stairs, her feet silent in the plush carpet. She took the stairs two at a time, pulling the garment over her head, until she finally reached the ground floor. She broke into an all out run as her feet connected with cold hard wood.

As the sliding glass door in the kitchen came into view she began to slow her pace, when she reached the handle she wrenched the door open. Practically flinging her self through the doorway, she felt her lungs burn as she inhaled the cold winter air. The pain a relief and shock to her system, clearing her mind.

Feeling the damp wood of the porch under her feet, she deftly crossed to the stairs that would lead her to the lower part of the deck and then beyond to the brown grass. The crunching sound from beneath her feet seemed oddly reassuring as she plodded across the yard, sitting down on the chilled ground. Slowly raising her legs so that they were bent in front of her, Sharon laid her head on her knees, while encircling then with her arms.

She wasn't quite sure how long she been sitting out there but when a warm and gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder she jumped slightly at the contact. Raising her head slowly, Sharon connected with eyes that matched her own. Only instead of her face staring back her she saw the face of her son, his hair mussed from sleep yet his eyes were wide in his pale face.

_Didn't this seem familiar..._

"Hi baby," Sharon murmured, smiling weakly.

Jesse smiled back, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hi Mama," he replied softly.

As Jesse shifted to sit down, Sharon scooted closer to him, suddenly realizing how cold she was. She looked down at herself and startled at the realization that all she was wearing was her thin cotton sleep shorts, a thin sleep tank, and the threadbare sweatshirt. As if reading her mind, Jesse slung his arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to his warmth.

"Cold?" at the teasing lilt to his voice Sharon looked up, his face awash with a genuine smile, dimples and all.

"A little," she sighed, "but if I'm being honest, embarrassed is more like it."

She felt rather than saw him tilt his head in sympathy, obviously contemplating what he was going to say next.

"Its ok to be human once in a while," he stated calmly.

Sharon looked at him questioningly, their eyes locking, hers narrowing.

He backtracked slightly, "Come on Mom, you know what I mean," he sighed, frustrated.

"You do so much for so many people, why not let us help you for a change?" he questioned.

When Sharon made no move to answer, Jesse saw that as his cue to continue. Shifting slightly to the side, he removed his arm from his mother's shoulders.

"Or at least let Andy in," he offered.

At Sharon's look of surprise he just laughed, amused with the situation; he sent a grin in her direction.

"Mom, we aren't blind, in fact we are a lot more informed than you think we are," he hedged.

"Just let him in, he can help."

Sharon sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night.

"It's not that simple, Jess."

"Hmmm," he hummed, "But it is."

Sharon shook her head ruefully, smiling at her son, "When did you become so wise?"

"I've always been this way, I just don't show it often enough," he teased with a wink.

Punching him in his arm playfully, Sharon softly snorted. She watched him slowly rise to his feet, brushing off his pants. He bent down again to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, and then he turned to walk away. Just as he was about to ascend the stairs, he called back flippantly over his shoulder.

"Just call him!"

She watched him leap up the stairs and then stride through the doorway into the house. Groaning quietly to herself, she lifted her weary body up and off the dead grass. Raising her head to stare at the stars Sharon couldn't help but think to herself:

_If only it were that easy…_


	12. Chapter 12

_**Sorry guys, I know this has been a long time coming...some personal things had come up and I needed to take time out to deal with them :/. This isn't quite as long as I wanted it to be, but I think it does the job...and don't worry, chapter thirteen is already in the mix ;) **_

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><p>When the shrill sound of her alarm pierced the quiet of her bedroom the next morning, Sharon wished she could have said she'd slept. At least a fitful sleep would have been nice; but as she had climbed back into bed earlier that morning, she had known she wouldn't be so lucky.<p>

As her bleary eyes stared at the neon numbers on the contraption next to her bed, she couldn't help but let a frustrated moan escape her lips. Gently pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook her head from side to side cautiously, willing the beginning of the headache she felt, to disappear. She wished she could just lie back down next to Rachael and use this day for her emotional recovery, but she knew she couldn't do that…no matter how much she needed it.

Not only did she have to make the formal introductions of Detective Daniels to her team but there was also a speech that needed to be made…if she didn't address her team before hand it would be like feeding the poor detective to the wolves.

Hauling herself out of bed seemed to be a super-human effort, but as she walked into the bathroom her movements seemed to become mechanical, no feeling and without purpose.

She gingerly turned the knob in the shower, checking the water temperature while reaching into the drawer to the right of the sink. As she waited for the water to warm, Sharon extracted a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, squeezing a generous amount onto the bristles. She began a gentle circular motion, clearing away the sleep and morning breathe from her teeth, her mind drifted in other directions.

All too soon she was thrust back into the scene she had been reliving and reviewing in her mind. Her chest clenched as she remembered the sad longing in his russet eyes, the barely veiled hurt as she scrambled away from him in panic, the only thing registering was to get away.

Sharon knew that Andy had no idea, not really, and probably couldn't even fathom what she had been through... He knew bits and pieces, things that he had questioned her about and she had been honest as possible in her answers. She told him all that he needed to know, not all that had happened; she suspected that she had seemed outrageous in her fit last night, bewildering him if not scaring him away completely.

Sharon rinsed her mouth in the sink, breathing in deeply as she looked at her reflection. The person staring back at her looked nothing like the blissful woman who's make up she had retouched last night. The gleam of excitement that was in her eyes last night was now replaced with a flicker of discontent, complete with dark circles courtesy of her lack of sleep. Her cheeks that just last night seemed to be ripe with a rosy color were pale and drawn in the harsh light of her bathroom.

No longer being able to stomach what she saw in the mirror, Sharon turned on her heel walking towards the shower, not stopping as she reached the glass door. Then without a second thought she stepped through the steam and under the warm jets of water, completely submerging herself. Standing completely still she let the scalding water run slowly over the top of her head, down her cheeks, and over her torso…cleansing as it went. Slowly she turned away from the stream stopping when she reached the tiled wall, pushing her hair and the water out of her eyes, contemplating exactly how to avoid someone for the rest of her career.

When Sharon emerged out of the bathroom, her body wrapped in a plush, white towel and damp hair hanging loosely about her shoulders, the last thing she anticipated to see was a very wide-eyed and pissed off Rachael. Quickly taking in her daughter's body language, arms wrapped around her folded knees and Raydor scowl firmly in place, Sharon deduced that they were in for one of "those" conversations.

"Hey Little One," she greeted, "how did you sleep?"

Rachael sat stiffly, not responding, leant against the pillows just staring heatedly at her mother. Sharon stared back expectantly, wondering where the sudden irritation had come from. It was a good five minutes before her daughter haughtily threw the covers back and off of her legs, crossing determinedly towards the closed bedroom door.

"Rach!" she called out urgently, "What on Earth has gotten into you?"

At that the young woman's hand froze, hovering over the doorknob, seeming to pulsate with anger until it finally clenched with determination. Unable to control her emotions just yet, she spoke without facing her mother, barely concealed loathing in her voice.

"You're doing it again."

Sharon shook her head, genuinely confused, "What are you talking about?"

Rachael sighed in irritation and turned around to slowly face her mother. Sharon noted the defensive stance, arms crossed protectively across her chest and legs slightly apart as if she was ready to do battle. She tensed slightly as she gripped the towel tighter around her body, feeling somewhat exposed and defenseless.

"You are running away, _YET _again." Rachael concluded dejectedly.

Sharon automatically drew her shoulders up and slipped the Captain's mask into place. Shielding her self as she regarded her eldest child closely.

"How so?" she enquired uncertainly.

Shaking her head disbelievingly, the younger woman snorted as a mocking smile spread across her lips.

"This situation seems eerily familiar doesn't it?" at that Sharon's eyebrow rose to her hairline.

"I mean this whole thing with Andy…its happened before hasn't it?"

Sharon's eyes locked with those of her seemingly defiant daughter's; neither it appeared, was willing to back down from this particular fight.

Although Rachael resembled her father, one thing that she indefinitely inherited from her mother was her temper. Sharon knew exactly how volatile and nonnegotiable her daughter could be in these instances…it was like looking into a mirror.

The older brunette took a deep and calming breath before addressing her daughter, carefully choosing her words.

"Rach there is more to this situation than you could…" but she was swiftly and succinctly cut off.

"Don't patronize me!" the younger woman all but growled.

"…ever understand," but Sharon kept talking as if Rachael had never said a word, "There are things…you shouldn't have to deal with."

The last few words were whispered as Sharon stared down at her bare feet, pale against the dark wood of the floor. Although they were said in earnest, the words only fueled Rachael's anger.

Rachael began to pace in frustration, her arms not quite knowing what to do with them selves, constantly changing position. Suddenly she stopped and stared decisively at her mother, her ire evident in her voice.

"Why do you treat me like a child?" she questioned heatedly.

Sharon could only stare at her daughter in astonishment; she had never seen Rachael's temper go quite this far. Making the sound decision that perhaps it was time to end this particular conversation before it got out of hand, she ignored the question.

"Rachael Kiernan, you _are_ acting like a child and frankly I don't have the time or energy for it this morning,"

Mirroring her daughter's early stance, Sharon folded her arms fiercely over her chest, just above the edge of the towel; a challenge that the younger brunette readily accepted.

"You never do…you just push it back into some forgotten corner of your subconscious, hoping it will never rear its ugly head!" exasperation was evident in Rachael's voice.

All Sharon could do was gape at the sudden outburst, and her daughter took that as an opportunity to keep the truth flowing from her lips.

"You _NEVER_ let us help you!" she cried in desperation, "When all Jess and I ever want to do is hold you and offer at least a fraction of the comfort you deserve!"

The older woman stood stricken and helplessly watched as the angry tears ran down Rachael's cheeks. They flowed unchecked and seemingly caused her daughter no pause in her rant.

"_I _deserve that at least!" she was sobbing now.

"I deserve to be able to talk to you about it, offer you solace…after all do you forget who, besides yourself, was put through this nightmare as well?"

Sharon watched as her eldest child's shoulders sagged in defeat, itching to reach out and pull her into a tight embrace. Yet she was unable to move, paralyzed by the truth and anguish in those words.

Rachael gave a shuddering exhale, "Do you forget _I_ was the one that found you…that I was barely old enough to call 911?"

Sharon sucked in a sharp breath, her chest constricting.

"Or that _I_ was the one who sat by your side, crying uncontrollably as the paramedics performed CPR on your lifeless body!"

She was shaking now.

Sharon took a few steps towards toward her daughter, hesitantly. She reached forward, laying a tentative hand on Rachael's trembling arm, but the younger woman roughly shook off the comforting gesture.

"Your lips were blue, Mama," she enunciated, "as in no life left in your body…your skin had already begun to turn cold for goodness sake!"

Finally Sharon had seemed to find her voice.

"I know baby," she her voice breaking as she cooed soothingly, " and I'm sorry you had to go through that…"

"My point is…" Rachael continued with a trembling lip, "that I wish you would talk to me…"

She wiped furiously at the tearstains on her cheeks, "I know what you've been through, and for all intents and purposes I understand."

"I just want to help," she reiterated miserably.

Sharon stood in the middle of her bedroom, dumbfounded and lost. She had no idea that her daughter had ever felt this way; she had always thought they shared everything, a bond that went deeper than anything else. Apparently she had been horribly and irrevocably mistaken.

Rachael seemed to pull her self together slightly, taking in deep breaths and slowing her heart rate. She straightened her back, pulled her shoulders back, and let a shockingly familiar mask slip down over her features, effectively closing off her emotions.

Locking eyes with her mother again, purposely showing no trace of emotion or weakness, wanting her last statement to be heard loud and clear.

"Or at least talk to Andy, he deserves honesty as much as I do."

With that last parting jibe, she spun on her heel and yanked the bedroom door open viciously. Taking one last dismayed look at her mother, the door slammed shut with a crack that reverberated through not only the house, but Sharon's body as well.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Thanks for being patient guys, and all the wonderful reviews...it makes me excited to write :)) _**

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><p>The day seemed destined to only grow dark and gloomier. By the time Sharon had arrived at her office it had already started to sprinkle, barely wetting her windshield. The grey and foreboding clouds seemed to match her mood perfectly, she was still pretty shaken up about her…encounter with Rachael earlier that morning.<p>

For the first time in a long time Sharon Raydor had left her home without so much as a goodbye from her children. Obviously each of her children had their reasons but it still set her nerves on edge, as if it was a foreshadowing for the remainder of the day. It could only get better from there she supposed… Although fate, it seemed, had decided to make her the ultimate butt of all its jokes.

Halfway to work Sharon realized that in her panic stricken and harried state that morning, she had forgotten to grad her cell phone from the table in the entry way, effectively leaving her cut off from her team. It was her lifeline, and being without it would surely make her day that much more difficult. She glanced at quickly at the clock on her dash and groaned as the digital numbers showed she was also twenty minutes late.

By the time Sharon turned into the parking garage, the rain had started to come down in sheets, running gracefully down the side of her sleek sedan. She quickly threw the car into park and fluidly snatched her purse and briefcase from the passenger seat while promptly exiting her vehicle.

As she strode towards the elevator and the ever-present Joe, Sharon couldn't help but tug her sweater a little closer towards her body as an icy gust of wind swirled around her body. She smiled in gratitude at the security guard as his hand sprang out to hold the elevator, never noticing the lip at the bottom of the door's entrance.

Just as she was about to inquire to his morning, Sharon's heel suddenly found the imperceptible lip and her forward motion sent her careening into the elevator. She barely had enough time to fling her arms out in front of her to break her fall, closing her eyes as the floor rose up to meet her.

She heard the sickening pop before she felt the intense pain start in her right knee, the fire quickly radiating down through her leg. Afraid to move, Sharon stayed that way for a few minutes, taking stock of the rest of her body, searching for any more discomfort. She silently thanked whatever higher power out there she had forgone the navy blue skirt combo for the sensible grey slacks and black sweater she was currently wearing. She blushed at the thought of the other possible outcome…

She took a deep breath before she finally decided it was safe to try and stand, using the handrail in the elevator for leverage. It was then that she realized that Joe was standing in the elevator's doorway, looking at her worriedly.

"Are you ok Captain?" his kind face was twisted with concern.

Smiling shakily, she answered, "I think so…"

Sharon tested her knee, carefully putting a little of her weight on it, sighing in relief when she found it shaky but able to support her.

Joe silently contemplated her, "Do you need me to accompany you to your office?"

"I think I'll be ok," she chuckled, but her laughter died in her throat as she caught sight of one of her favorite black pumps.

Sharon grimaced slightly as she bent over to retrieve the shoe, frowning as she watched the heel clatter noisily to the floor of the elevator.

She felt tears spring to her eyes.

_Stop it…it's just a shoe!_

Realizing that her embarrassing reaction was borne out of the emotional ringer she had been put through in the last twenty-four hours, she quickly wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks. Sniffling she carefully balanced precariously on her tender leg as she slipped off the other shoe. Watching as she carefully brought herself upright, Joe hesitantly handed her the forgotten purse and briefcase. Then he cautiously stepped out of the elevator as he winked at Sharon and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Have a good day captain," he relented.

Sharon watched as his gentle face disappeared, swallowed by the elevator doors. Sighing heavily she backed into the corner of the elevator, shoes hanging from on hand…purse and briefcase in the other. Tilting her head gently back against the smoothly polished wall, Sharon couldn't help the though that sprung to her mind.

_What else can possibly go wrong?_

She didn't bother to lift her eyes from her bare feet; in fact she found them quite interesting, as she heard the elevator ding. She listened intently as the door slowly slid open and new arrivals shuffled into the cramped space, situating them selves accordingly. Sharon was quite content to just be invisible the rest of the ride but again it seemed fate had different plans…

The subtle clearing of a throat was heard, followed by the rustling of clothing as the new occupants shifted their weight. Sharon studiously ignored the sound, hoping against everything that the new passengers would pay her no mind. That was until she heard another, albeit less subtle, throat clearing. She refused to rise to the bait, vowing that whoever was in the elevator wouldn't get that satisfaction, she still had some dignity.

_Not much_, she thought as she contemplated her bare feet one again.

"Good morning Captain."

It was such a simple statement, yet so complex. She didn't have to look at the person to know he was grinning at her cruelly, she could hear the calculating smirk in his voice. Her head reluctantly rose from her feet and she came face to face with none other than Louie Provenza.

"Good morning…Lieutenants," she replied coolly as she noticed Andy over Provenza's left shoulder.

Andy stared resolutely ahead of him…he wouldn't even look at her, didn't even greet her.

_I guess I deserve that._

"You seen to have had a rough morning, Captain," Provenza stated, smirk still in place.

Sharon couldn't help but bristle at the insolent tone he projected, or the way he looked her over, head to toe. She noticed he paused at her bare feet, then her scuffed pant leg, and again at the way she held her knee, which was bent at a slightly at an odd angle. She stared daggers at Provenza, daring him to say more.

Andy still didn't look at her, just stared determinedly at the elevator doors. Sharon felt her heart constrict yet again, and she couldn't help but feel it was hopeless. He looked good in his black suit and pale blue tie, but his face was drawn as if in pain…his lips and eyes taught with stress. An old memory suddenly sprang to the forefront of her mind.

_She closed her eyes as his soft hands ghosted over her forehead, desperately trying to soothe away the anxiety he found there. _

_ She was safe in his arms, warm and secure…loved._

_ The feeling of his velvety lips as they graced her temple was one she would never forget._

_ So immensely gentle._

_ Filled with affection._

He obviously didn't want to be there with her.

She swallowed back the ridiculous tears as she tried to breathe steadily through her nose, berating her self for being so soft. Her grip on her shoes and the handle of her briefcase became so tense, she could sense rather than see her knuckles turning white.

Provenza turned to face his partner, throwing a remark over his shoulder that was anything but casual.

"I've heard it hurts to fall off a broom…I hope you're alright Captain."

His tone was anything but sincere; in fact condescending seemed to fit the description a little more accurately.

Never before had he been that blatant with his teasing of her. Sure she had heard the rumors and other things floating throughout the departments; but never had Provenza, or any other officer for that matter, ever been so cruel to her face. It actually made her slightly nervous...behind her back she could handle, but face-to-face might be the last straw.

She glanced at his partner curiously, to see his reaction.

Andy still stared stoically forward.

Seeing she would get no help from him, Sharon did what she did best and took up the defense position. Her Captain's mask slid perfectly and securely into place as she straightened he back and stood to her full height, not so over bearing without the extra advantage of her heels. She was not willing to accept the jab and give him what he so desired; she tried to play off the insult.

"Yes well," she hummed, "thanks for the concern gentlemen, but I am indeed just fine."

"I'm sure it wasn't as bad as the house."

She felt the shock take hold of her body, felt her heart drop into her stomach with a nauseating sensation at his comment. The first thing he had said in the entire ride and it was meant to hurt her.

_Well he definitely hit his mark. _

He didn't even have the decency to look at her when he said it.

_And he called me the coward._

Sharon startled as the elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at the next floor, and fortunately the offices of Major Crimes. Without a backward glance or even an acknowledgement, both Lieutenants exited the elevator, leaving Sharon to gather her self.

_Talk about saved by the bell_, she though despondently.

Her body suddenly felt extremely heavy and weary. She slowly closed her eyes, trying desperately to calm her heart, to stifle the tears, at least until she was safely ensconced inside her office.

It was now painfully obvious to her that what had happened last night had done serious damage to her and Andy's relationship, maybe even that of the irreparable kind. Sharon wasn't sure she had the strength or will to try anymore.

As she felt the elevator slow, Sharon pushed her self off of the wall of the elevator where she had balanced. Striding out of the confining space and through the double doors of her department, she plastered on a smile. She walked with an air of confidence she neither felt nor possessed.

She was relieved that only two of her detectives were present when she entered the offices of FID. Seated behind his desk was Sergeant Elliot and propped against the corner was Randall, both of which looked up to see who had entered the department.

Sharon cringed inwardly at the looks of barely concealed concern and disbelief that graced her officers faces as they took in her appearance. She was sure that they had never seen her in this state of such severe duress; clothes a mess, heels in hand, makeup surely mussed, and not to mention hair disheveled.

"Good morning gentlemen," she began hesitantly.

Randall was the first to respond, "Pardon my forwardness Captain, but what the hell happened to you?"

Elliot shot his partner a sharp look causing him to blush slightly and then turned back to his Captain.

"What Bradley meant to say was are you alright?" concern coloring his voice.

Sharon sighed heavily, dropping all sense of propriety, after all these two were as close to her as her own children. Shrugging her shoulders slightly, she continued walking towards her office.

"Just one of those mornings boys…hopefully the day can only get better."

With that the Captain slipped quietly into her office, flicking the blinds shut, leaving her officers to stare after her. They were no more convinced by her words than she was.

"What happened?" Randall worried aloud.

Elliot stared at the closed door, considering, "I'm not sure, but whatever it was she certainly wasn't prepared for it."

He continued to stare at the door, wondering if maybe the Captain wasn't always as strong as she seemed.

The rest of the morning seemed to run smoothly Sharon noted with a sense of quiet relief. Even the introduction of her team to Detective Daniels seemed to go over with little to no incident. She could feel the apprehension coming off the young detective in waves as she stood next to Sharon in front of her new partners.

Although there never was a reason to worry, her team had seen a kindred spirit, some one who was just as much an outsider as they all were, although for seemingly different reasons.

She watched fondly her officers and the new recruit fondly through the blinds of her office. Sharon smiled gently to herself as she watched Randall and Chapman tease Daniels gently, while Elliot looked on decidedly amused.

_Yes_, she though to herself, _the boys will definitely take care of her_.

She straightened her shoulders minutely as she turned her chair slightly to face the window and that of the bleak Los Angeles sky that continued to rain. She unconsciously tightened the black sweater around her shoulders, trying to adjust the bodice of the dress she was currently wearing.

Upon entering her office earlier that morning she had decided to change into the spare outfit she kept in the closet. She couldn't very well walk around her department barefoot, clad in scuffed slacks…only if she had remembered exactly what her spare outfit was.

It wasn't that the dress wasn't professional, in all reality it was modestly appropriate, but it still made Sharon feel uncomfortable. She normally chose to wear 'power suits,' as her children so playfully called them, whether with a slacks or skirt combination.

In those she felt strong and invincible…

In the dress she felt small and insignificant.

It was a pastel blue, made of a soft jersey material, with just a hint of cleavage…just enough to be considered feminine but otherwise professional. The skirt of the dress fell freely about her thighs and moved airily as she walked, brushing the tops of her knees teasingly.

After he had donned the new outfit, taking comfort in the fact that she could wear her black sweater over the top, she slipped on the shoes she had paired with the dress. She stared at the soft black leather flats that graced her feet, which were immensely comfortable, almost feeling as if she wore nothing.

_Now why don't I wear flats more often?_

Sharon carefully stood up and moved around her desk, contemplating the thought while simultaneously reaching for the handle of her office door. Pushing the door open carefully, she strode purposefully out of her office and through the throng of desks. She was almost to the set of double doors that would let her escape when Elliot stopped her.

"The reports from the Bishop incident you requested Captain." He said with a slight smirk, handing her a brown envelope.

It was then, as she had to crane her neck to see her detective's face, that Sharon realized exactly why she didn't wear flats and exactly why he was smirking at her.

"Thank you Sergeant," she replied smoothly, "I'm going for some coffee, be back in a bit."

Elliot could only reply with a cheeky "Aye Captain."

Sharon was still shaking her head amusedly as she rounded the corner of the hallway reaching the last stretch that led to the break room shared by both FID and Major Crimes. She was hoping that she would be the only occupant at this time of the day.

The kitchenette seemed remarkably clean as she entered, smelling faintly of bleach and something else she couldn't quite place. Not a chair was out of place, not a dish was in the sink.

She walked carefully over to the counter, stopping in front of the coffee maker, gently extracting the empty carafe from its cradle. She leant towards the sink and turned on the faucet, filling the glass coffee pot to the appropriate line and then dumping the water into the well behind the hotplate.

She reached into the cupboard extracting the required coffee grounds and a plain white mug. Reaching up a second time she came into contact with the rough texture of a coffee filter, which she preceded to place in the proper spot and fill it with a generous scoop of the life giving substance.

Satisfied with her job, Sharon gently pushed the silver button, watching as the green light appeared signaling the start of the brewing process. She gingerly slid into one of the plastic chairs, leaning against the top of the table as she stared off into space.

It wasn't often that Sharon Raydor daydreamt, in fact she could probably count on one hand the number of times. But today just seemed like a day in which it was needed, maybe even warranted. She imagined how differently things could have been, how much better her life seemingly could have been. She became mesmerized by the rain that seemed to be cascading down the large windows of the hallway in large rivulets.

The last thing she ever thought would happen…no the last person she expected to see, breezily entered the break room., simultaneously interrupting Sharon's current train of thought.

"Well hello Capt'n Raydor," the southern lilt could only belong to one person, and Sharon wasn't particularly prepared for this confrontation.

Taking a deep calming breath, she answered her superior officer.

"Morning Chief." Cordial enough.

She could see the Blonde out of the corner of her eye, dressed in a pair of chocolate slacks, nude heels, and her precious cardigan. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun and the younger woman wore her dark rimmed glasses today.

_She looked downright normal,_ Sharon thought, _maybe a little out of sorts._

Sharon could feel Johnson's eyes boring into her, probably taking in her more casual attire, and sizing her up almost. It was then that the Chief did something decidedly unlike her.

As the coffee maker began to beep signally the finished brewing cycle, the petite blonde grabbed another cup from the cupboard as well as the one Sharon left on the counter. She set them in front of the extremely confused Captain, and then turned back toward the counter to grab the carafe.

She silently set the now full coffee pot beside the cups, turning on her heel sharply and heading for the fridge. Sharon watched curiously as she disappeared behind the open door, only to reemerge moments later with a carton of dairy sweetener. Smiling triumphantly at the deer in the headlights look the brunette wore, the younger woman gracefully slumped into the plastic chair on the opposite side of the table.

She then began by slowly pouring the steaming liquid into each cup, shy of the rim so the sweetener could be easily added. She connected eyes with Sharon as she twisted the plastic cap forcefully, then removing it completely.

Sharon tore her eyes away from Chief's and then back to the coffee cup, wincing slightly at the excessive amount of liquid added. Johnson snatched a stirrer from the container in the middle of the table, and carefully mixed her coffee. Her eyes never leaving Sharon, narrowed slightly.

_Oh here we go_, she mentally prepared herself.


	14. Chapter 14

A while since I last updated, and I just want you all to know I haven't given up! There have been some developments in my personal life, some good and some bad. I've been going to school to get my teaching credential, which has been extremely daunting. Also as of last week my aunt has entered the final stages of her battle with Leukemia, she is on hospice care and will passing within the next few days….

So please bear with me, the story will come back…soon!


	15. Chapter 15

**_Thank you guys for being so patient, it really means a lot to me :) I would also like to thank you for all the good wishes and sentiments! Hopefully this chapter will answer a few questions...the next chapter will be the last and I promise all will be resolved :)_**

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><p>The longer the Chief stared at her, the more uncomfortable Sharon seemed to become. The lead interrogator's eyes were trained on the older brunette, scrutinizing every complexity of her character. She had eyes that were so warm and inviting, yet piercing, seeing through the outer layers of Sharon's resolve and into her withering soul.<p>

No longer able to retain the Chief's gaze, Sharon lowered her eyes to her own cup, reaching for two packets of raw sugar from the basket in the middle of the table. The tearing of the paper seemed loud and unjust in the quiet room, as if disturbing the peace somehow. She carefully stirred her coffee until she felt the grittiness of the sweetener recede. As she brought the mug to her lips to gently taste the steaming liquid, Sharon noticed that the blonde still had her in the crosshairs.

"Chief," Sharon began hesitantly, "is there something I could help you with?"

Brenda said nothing and just stared stoically back at the Captain, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Well a little birdie told me you had an awfully rough mornin' Capt'n." she supplied.

The brunette sighed dramatically as she sat back in her chair, defensively crossing her arms across her chest.

"Honestly Chief, I have no idea why it is relevant, but yes my morning has been…off."

Chief Johnson sniffed inelegantly, "Off? Capt'n I was under the impression that a change of clothes was needed…"

As the blonde trailed off she eyed the older brunette from head to toe, scrutinizing the peculiar outfit. Never had Sharon felt so vulnerable in her workplace, and without conscious though she drew the sweater even tighter around her body.

"Yes well…was there something you needed Chief?" as Raydor reiterated the title, she noticed the blonde noticeably stiffen.

"Capt'n, may I be blunt?"

Sharon snorted, "That has never stopped you before."

"Yes well be that as it may, this is more of a personal matter," the blonde intoned.

The older woman lifted her chin defiantly, as if to signal for the Chief to go on.

"Does your foul mood have anything to do with a certain one of my Lieutenants?"

Sharon sat straight up, jostling the table and spilling her coffee in the process. She hastily reached for napkins, wanting to catch the brown substance before it trailed over the edge of the table. She looked at Chief Johnson with wide eyes and nervously cleared her throat.

"I have no idea what you are talking about Chief," she stuttered.

"Capt'n…Sharon," Brenda hesitated, "I will admit that I am sorely lackin' in the area of common sense where my personal life is concerned, but I know what love looks like."

Sharon's eyes grew even larger in her now pale face, looking at The Chief uncomprehendingly.

_I cannot be having this discussion with Brenda Leigh Johnson of ALL people! _

The Chief kept going, ignoring Sharon's dumbstruck look.

"I hope the restaurant I recommended was appealin' to your tastes Capt'n," the blonde's lips pulled back into a pleased smirk.

All Sharon could do was shake her head; apparently she had underestimated just exactly how close Andy was with his squad. Her mind jumped to the past few days, hoping against all hope that Andy had respected her privacy. She knew the Andy of a few years back, but there was no telling what he was like now, especially when he was hurting.

_This morning had been a fine example_, she though to herself.

In an uncharacteristic display of kindness towards the head of FID, Brenda gently reached over the table to cover Sharon's hand with her won. When the brunette looked up at her superior and she knew she had her undivided attention, the Chief continued.

"There aren't many wonderful men left in this world, Capt'n," she giggled slightly, "And I know because I just happen to be in possession of one of 'em."

Sharon nodded her head absentmindedly and the blonde continued.

"And if I'm not mistaken you have a pretty wonderful one yourself waitin' in the wings," she paused briefly, "I don't pretend to know what has gone on in your life, but would it be so bad just to let him in?"

She sighed as she took another sip of her coffee as she watched Sharon look to her hands folded neatly in her lap.

can't help his emotions…what is that old sayin'? The heart knows what the heart wants?"

Sharon glanced up and saw the Chief's demeanor shift a little, back towards something she was familiar with. The blonde tossed her hair haughtily and snorted with indifference.

"Although what he sees in you ill never know," she softened the insult with a cheeky grin.

Sharon couldn't help but return the favor with a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Brenda set the coffee cup softly back on the table and then leaned towards Sharon intently, as if she was holding a deep secret.

"Fritzi was patient…and a little on the stubborn side, but I'm sure Andy has his limits…he can only endure so much more," she paused, "before he turns tail."

As she listened to the Chief utter those words, Sharon could feel herself become numb, for she knew the words were true. She had known from the beginning that he loved her, but that he also had his own personal limitations.

She was rudely awoken from her revelry when the Chief cleared her throat rather loudly. Startled, Sharon looked up to see that the blonde was now standing at the threshold to the break room.

_How does she do that?_

"Just a little food for thought, Capt'n," she said in a rather sing-song voice, "You have a good day, bye-bye now."

Before Sharon could utter a heart felt yet surprising 'thank you,' the blonde Georgia Peach was already half way down the hall. She looked to the windows across the hall and saw that it had stopped raining, and all that was left was the grey atmosphere of wintertime.

Sharon stood from the table, grabbing her cup of coffee, and strode towards the doorway. Her thoughts were racing and jumbled, she obviously needed to come to a decision and fast.

As she walked steadily back toward her office, a small sigh escaped her mouth as she came to a decision. She would need to talk to Andy at some point, but she wasn't quite ready, emotionally or physically, to have that sort of discussion with him.

She decided instead to make it her priority to leave work at a decent hour…there was someone at home in obvious need of her attention.

Well the decent hour for Sharon came and went thanks to an 'accidental' officer involved shooting. Apparently Sergeant Richins felt it necessary to take measures into his own hands when he caught his daughter…indisposed with a young man in her bedroom, indecently so.

So in an attempt to protect his seemingly innocent daughter, the Lieutenant had brandished his side arm and chased the young man down his street and across town for about two blocks. That is until his fellow officers finally caught him, and proceeded to incapacitate him.

_I thought this only happened in movies_, Sharon thought ruefully to her self.

She glanced wearily at the clock, and then groaned out loud when she realized it read nine-thirty. Her lack of sleep and emotional outbursts were beginning to weigh heavily on her mind and body. She needed sleep and she needed it badly.

She gently shut the folder she was currently working on, and pushed it to the corner of her desk, as if she could alleviate the pressing need for it to be finished. She grabbed her purse out of the bottom drawer and pushed her chair into her desk with one well-practiced move. She lifted her trench of the coat tree and quietly shut her office door, waiting briefly for her eyes to adjust to the dim light of her. Once she could see the path leading to the door of her department she started on her way purposefully, shrugging on her trench as she stepped out into the long corridor.

Sharon checked her possessions one more time, ensuring that she had everything she needed before she lifted her head. Expecting to see an empty space in front of the elevator, she stopped short when her eyes connected with those of familiar dark brown.

Shouldering her purse while she popped out her collar, she strode past the elevators in the direction of the stairs. Sharon gave him the same courtesy that she had received in the elevator earlier that day; she wasn't in the mood to stop and hash out this seemingly despondent and laughable situation. She didn't want to acknowledge the look of disappointment on his face or the way he reached out as if to stop her. She ignored the halfhearted and dejected utterance of her name, picking up her pace the closer she got to the stairs.

She wasn't ready to have this discussion with him yet, wasn't prepared. There would be time for this particular discussion with him later…at least she hoped.

Maybe tonight would play out the way she wanted it to, after all Jesse was spending the night a Keith's… All she did know was that she needed to vacate the building and head home; to hopefully right a mistake and have a conversation that should have taken place twelve years ago.

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><p><em>Rachael lay awake in her bed upstairs, listening to the muddled sounds of whatever was going on downstairs. She could tell from Daddy's yelling earlier that it was something bad, and that it would be one of those nights. One of the nights in which the front door would slam and then all would be silent, only the sound of Mommy crying quietly downstairs would be heard. Then Jesse would come crawling into her room, silent tears falling down his cheeks, and he would quietly crawl into the bed next to her.<em>

_ Later Mommy would walk quietly up the stairs and stop outside the door of her room. She never came right in and that had always made Rachael wonder. She would hear Mommy breathing deeply on the other side, as if trying to calm her self, trying to get her breath back. Then she would gently open the door and walk quietly to whatever side of Rachael's bed was less occupied. Mommy would quietly slip off her shoes; gently draw back the covers and spoon up against her back._

_ Most times she would cry quietly into Rachael's hair thinking that she was sound asleep. Her arms would not only encircle around her daughter's body but that of her son as well, encompassing them in a love that would always lull Rachael back into sleep._

_ Then there were nights where Mommy didn't even come into her room at all. Those were the nights that Rachael knew she would wake up the next morning and her mother would have a new bruise or cut…maybe even a black eye or split lip. Daddy in the last couple months had gotten sloppy, sometimes the owies were hard for Mommy to hide._

_ Rachael had also figured out that these times were always when he was upset with her or her brother. She knew it was best to do just as Daddy said, he always threatened to hurt them, but Mommy never let that happen. If ever he was angry with either herself or Jesse, Mommy always seemed to get hurt worse later on. She always did her best to protect them._

_ After a while Rachael became worried…the yelling wasn't stopping, it was only getting louder and now it sounded as if things were being broken. Suddenly her bedroom was illuminated by the soft glow of the hall nightlight silhouetting Jesse's tiny form in her doorway._

_ Rachael sat straight up and beckoned to him silently, waving her hand in a come closer gesture. He padded towards her bed on quiet feet and quickly settled himself in front of his sister, so she could lay down with her arm around his waist. On nights like these that was how Jesse preferred to sleep, cocooned inside his sister's warmth, seemingly protected from the outside world._

_ It was then that the air was pierced by a scream…but it wasn't one that Rachael had heard before. It was Mommy who made the sound but she knew that it meant so much more; she had never heard it that high before or that frantic._

_ "RICHARD!" she heard Mommy scream accompanied by the low growl from her father._

_ She heard Mommy beg, "Please don't!" and then she began to sob, "Please don't!"_

_ "SHUT UP!" she heard Daddy yell._

_ The loud crack of glass breaking echoed up the stairway and sounded clearly into Rachael's room, followed by another scream of anguish. Although this one was different…it sounded like it had come from Daddy!_

_ Then she heard a scuffle downstairs, punctuated by grunts and profanities._

_ She heard a loud SLAP and knew that her father had hit her mother, and from the sounds that followed, more times after that._

_ That was when Rachael spurred into action, she had no idea what she was going to do, but she had to do something fast! She hopped out of bed, crossing her room to her door, but was stopped by a quiet whimper behind her. She turned back towards her bed to find her little brother watching her with wide and frightened eyes._

_ "It's ok Jess," she tried to reassure him, "I'll be right back, just stay there, do not move, do you hear me?"_

_ Jesse nodded slowly and Rachael knew he would do as she asked._

_ She bounded out of her room and down the hallway, her footsteps soundless on the plush carpet. The closer she go to the stairs the clearer the noises from downstairs became. She could hear something scraping against the wood of the floor and couldn't help to think how sad Mommy would be if there were scratches on her pretty floors._

_ Rachael walked quietly down the stairs, and when her feet felt the coolness of the wood she crept down the hallway towards the kitchen, the scuffing noises becoming even louder. Then she heard Mommy's voice, it sounded hoarse like she wasn't breathing right._

_ "Please don't," she whispered desperately, "I don't want them to find me!"_

_ Daddy's mean laugh reverberated through the kitchen and down the hallway, reaching Rachael's ears in record time._

_ "Your in no position to make demands you bitch!" he snarled._

_ Just then Rachael rounded the wall that separated the hallway from the kitchen, and what she saw would haunt her for the rest of her life._

_ The first she noticed was the blue glass that littered the floor, recognizing it from Mommy's favorite flower vase. Her father was perched, no straddling her mother much in the way he would when he used to tickle herself. Only Daddy had both of his big hands around Mommy's neck, causing her to make the same noises from before. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty…there was a red stain on the front of his shirt. As she looked upwards she came to the realization that it was blood, blood from a cut above his right eye._

_ As she took the entire scene in she realized what the scarping noises had been; Mommy was desperately trying to kick Daddy off of her, using the floor to get her grip. Mommy was struggling under Daddy, _

_ No matter how hard her mother tried or how hard she tried to buck Daddy off, he would just readjust and grip her throat tighter. He was so focused on what he was doing he never noticed his daughter standing in the doorway; too focused on the blue tinge that was beginning to infuse Sharon's lips._

_ In a moment of weakness Richard turned his head to wipe the sweat and blood from his eyes onto the shoulder of his dress shirt, Rachael saw her mother move her head weakly. She looked to Mommy's eyes and saw that they were hazy and clouded in deep pain. Rachael watched them dart slightly towards the pantry directly behind her, instinctively knowing what her mother was asking and ducked into the closet._

_ Through the slightly frosted glass she could make out the silhouette of her parents, her father still on top of her mother. She watched in horror as her mother's movements became slower until they stopped all together, the shadow of her hands falling limply to the floor._

_ Rachael covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to keep in the sobs that threatened to break through. She watched, her breath hitching in her throat, as Daddy slowly stood looking down at Mommy lying motionless on the floor. He made one final noise of disgust and then turned to leave the kitchen. _

_ Rachael slowly cracked open the pantry door, listening to the sounds of her father in the hallway. He gathered what she assumed were his keys and wallet before exiting the house, slamming to door behind him._

_ She threw open the door wincing slightly as she realized that it had bounced of the wall behind it, cracking the plaster. She ran to Mommy's side, falling to her knees, tearing spilling down her flushed cheeks. She noticed that hers eyelids and lips were turning a hideous purple color and that her cheeks were pale, her chest eerily still. She reached forward to touch her mother's lips but found them strangely cold; this was when panic began to set in. _

_ 'What do I do?!' she thought to herself frantically._

_ She glanced quickly down the hallway and then back to her mother, when she suddenly snapped her head back; there next to the hall table was Mommy's bag from work. Surely that would have her address book in it!_

_ 'Uncle Andy!' Rachael thought desperately._

_ When she reached her mother's bag she tore through it, papers flying through the air in total disarray, until her small fingers closed around the soft leather of her mother's address book. She flipped the pages so harshly that later she would be upset to know she had ripped some of them._

_ She found Andy's number easily as she turned to the table to snatch the cordless phone out of its cradle. She watched her fingers punch in the number as they shook uncontrollably, holding her breath while she waited for him to answer. Relief flooded through her system when he answered on the second ring._

_ "Flynn." His groggy voice supplied._

_ "Uncle Andy," Rachael said urgently into the phone, "its Mommy," she wailed into the receiver, "she's really hurt!"_

_ As the words left her mouth Rachael looked back towards the kitchen hoping that this was all a dream._

_ Andy's now wide-awake voice brought her back to the present._

_ "How hurt Little One?" he questioned, she could tell her was worried just by the way his voice cracked._

_ "Her…her…her lips are blue," Rachael gulped back a sob and continued, "and her skin is cold!"_

_ Andy interrupted her, "Rachael I'll be right there but I need you to get off the phone and call 9-1-1. Do you understand?"_

_ She shook her head yes, forgetting that Andy couldn't see her. When he didn't get and answer he frantically called her name._

_ "RACHAEL! Do you understand?"_

_ "Yes," she whispered._

_ He didn't even say goodbye and she heard the click then dial tone._

_ She did as she was told, repeating the words she had said to Andy to the operator on the other end of the emergency line. The woman was nice enough and told Rachael to sit by Mommy and wait for the paramedics to arrive. _

_ Although it was only a matter of minutes, the wait to Rachael felt like hours. She stared at the lifeless lips of her mother that were now turning a darker shade of purple; lips that had kissed her on the forehead when she was scared or her knees when she skinned them. _

_ What if she never wakes up? _

_ Who would do those things?_

_ As she formed the last thought, she heard the paramedics burst through the front door and announce themselves. From then on it was a flurry of activity, because behind then paramedics came policemen, some of them Rachael recognized as the people who worked with Mommy. _

_ She watched in terror as one of the paramedics started to pump up and down on Mommy's chest with his hands._

_ "NO!" she heard herself scream, 'You'll hurt her!"_

_ Rachel grabbed the man's arm and tried to pull him off of her mother. She begged and pleaded, punctuated with her wails of desperation until she felt strong arms lift her up. As she was turned she saw that Uncle Andy had finally gotten there, but he wasn't stopping the men._

_ "STOP THEM!" she screamed while pointing at the paramedics that were hard at work on her mother._

_ Andy tried to soother her, tried to tell her they were helping Mommy, but Rachael was having none of it!_

_ Hanging over Andy's shoulder as he carried her down the hallway and away from her mother, she felt the fear closing in. In one last desperate attempt she let go of her loudest scream yet._

_ "MOMMY!"_

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><p>Rachael sat straight up in her bed, realizing the scream that had awoken her came from her self. Her chest was heaving as if she had just run a marathon, her hair soaked with sweat, her throat raw from her exertion.<p>

She threw the covers back from her legs and hopped out of bed, nearly falling to the ground due to the weakness in her legs. She quickly shot her hands out for the edge of her bed to steady her self, breathing deeply through her nose, trying to calm her breathing.

She suddenly looked up as her bedroom door was thrown open, her mother standing in the door, chest heaving and eyes wide just like her own. Her mother took in her disheveled appearance and fast breathing, eyeing the sweat soaked hairline. It was then that Rachael's resolve broke.

"Mommy!" she wailed as he legs gave way and she crumpled to the floor.

Instead of hitting the floor like she envisioned, she felt her mother break her fall as she grabbed her around the waist. She slowly lowered them to the floor by Rachael's bed as her daughter buried her nose in Sharon's hair as well as her hands.

"Oh Little One," Sharon said brokenly.


	16. Chapter 16

**_I would like to thank each and everyone of you who ever took the time to review or offer me words of encouragement. It was a joyous experience to write this story, it was nice to get what I had to say about all the characters down on paper so to speak :) And to have the poetic license to play with not only the established characters but also to create my own was a real honor, I can only hope you enjoy the final installment!_**

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><p>By the time Sharon managed to slink her way through the front door, it was well past ten pm. She flung her shoes next to the hall closet and dropped her belongings onto the table, wincing slightly as she heard something hit the floor. Not bothering to turn around, she flipped on the light in the living room, squinting slightly as her eyes adjusted to the harsh light.<p>

She assumed that since the rest of the lights in the downstairs portion of the house were off that Rachel had turned in early. Sharon's shoulders slumped at the realization; she had really hoped to resolve this situation with her tonight, but it seemed that it would have to wait another day.

She decided that she would call it an early night as well and she hummed a generic melody to her self as she walked down the hallway toward the kitchen; her bare feet soundless on the soft wood. She found her way to the refrigerator thanks to the soft glow of the running lights beneath the cabinets. She scrunched up her nose at the various leftovers, and grabbed the jar of plum jelly from the door. With her energy being almost depleted, Sharon decided that a PBJ would have to do for tonight.

As she turned away she effortlessly closed the fridge door with her foot and immediately reached for the handle of the pantry door. With the peanut butter and bread retrieved, she slid her hand down the counter knowing from memory which drawer held the silverware, pulling on the handle gently. She extracted a butter knife and proceeded to make her sandwich. As she spread the purple goo onto the bread, her thoughts started to wander, into territory that she wasn't quite ready to visit.

_Why can't you just accept his love?_

_ I don't need it._

_ Oh yes you do, or else we wouldn't be having this conversation._

She shook her head slightly, not quite believing that she was in fact arguing with herself. Sharon gently sat the piece of bread that was now thoroughly coated in jelly down and picked up the next while unscrewing the lid to the peanut butter. Scooping out a generous amount onto her utensil she again let her thoughts roam.

_He loves you._

_ I know…_

_ So why should anything else matter?_

_ I don't deserve him._

_ Who are you to make that decision?_

Sharon chuckled humorlessly to herself as she brought the two halves of her sandwich together, turning towards the fridge once more. She replaced the jar while simultaneously reaching for the jug of milk, the glass cold and unforgiving beneath her fingertips.

_Because I know myself and I'd like to think I know him._

_ Things have changed in intervening years._

_ Be that what it may, I still know myself._

_ Do you really?_

All of a sudden a scream she had never heard pierced the air, causing Sharon to reflexively let go of the milk jug. She watched as if in slow motion as the glass finally connected with the hardwood, shattering on impact, showering her legs and soaking the hem of her dress.

She abruptly turned and sprinted down the hall, feeling her feet stick to the floor as they pounded on the hardwood. She didn't think she just ran, using the banister of the stairs for leverage as she swung around the corner; taking the stairs two at a time she could feel her sore knee cry out in protest, but all she could think about was getting to Rachael.

She skidded to a halt in front of her daughter's bedroom door, before she effortlessly thrust it open. She could feel her own chest heaving, matching the erratic pattern her daughter's seemed to have taken up. Sharon's eyes darted around the room and not seeing anything amiss they came back to settle on her daughters face. Rachael's hair that outlined her face was saturated with sweat, her dark eyes wide and pleadingly staring at her mother.

Unexpectedly her daughter let loose a pitiful sound, one she hadn't heard since she was quite little.

"Mommy!" she wailed and then seemed to crumble.

It took Sharon two quick strides to catch Rachael, grasping her around the waist and turning her body so she would connect with the floor first instead. She felt her back seize as she came into contact with the pole of her daughter's bed, wincing as the rough wood drove into her spine. Although when she felt her daughter's shaking hands entangle themselves into her hair, the tears soaking through her blouse, all of her pain was forgotten.

"Oh Little One," she whispered fighting back tears of her own.

Sharon began to rock back and forth unconsciously, something she would surmise later every mother was engrained with. This simple motion used to calm a colicky baby or even a heart-broken teenager, but in this case it was so much more.

Sharon tried to enfold Rachael as far into her embrace as she possibly could, while the younger woman cuddled farther into her mother, seeking reassurance. The older woman continued to soothe the child in her lap, one hand wrapped around her waist while the other continued to stroke the unruly dark ringlets. Her lips never seemed to leave the younger brunettes forehead, her breath coming in short pants tickling Rachael's skin.

Rachael's nose was so far buried into her mother's hair that she could smell the sweet and fresh scent that seemed to always accompany Sharon Raydor. As far back as she could remember, Rachael could never recall a time when her mom didn't smell that way. Whenever she had come home from her morning jog or even trolling through the streets at ungodly hours searching for a perp, her mother never lost her scent. Even thinking back to the day Jesse had been born, although the memories were hazy, Rachael could clearly recall what her mother looked and smelled like, it was a comforting thought.

Suddenly her mind drew up a picture from her nightmare, blue lips and cold skin. She shuddered violently, pulling her mother closer to her body. She was grasping at straws, clutching desperately at the solid form beneath her, willing her self to calm down. Her thoughts seemed to whirl around in her head, shifting and ever changing…chaotic.

_Mom is here._

_ She's here with me._

_ She is fine…unharmed._

Sharon could feel the warm, moist breath at the base of her neck become less agitated, she almost believed that Rachael had lulled herself to sleep. That was until she spoke softly…so softly that Sharon had to strain to hear her.

"It was horrible," she quietly sobbed.

Sharon's chest trembled as she inhaled, waiting for the younger woman to continue.

She felt the grasp on her hair become tighter, almost painful with the next admission; the steady breath on her collarbone became erratic.

"I watched him strangle you…watched the life drain from your body."

Sharon drew in a sharp breath knowing well what her daughter had witnessed. She could vaguely remember seeing Rachael in the kitchen, her petite form and riotous curls through hazy eyes. She closed her eyes tightly so the tears would not escape, holding in her own grief.

"Why?" she asked suddenly raising her head from her mother's neck.

The older brunette shook her head, in truth not quite knowing her self, unable to look into her daughter's eyes. Then she felt a feather soft touch on her face, gently caressing of her cheekbone. She slowly opened her eyes seeing Rachael intently staring at where her hand was touching; she cringed wondering if her daughter was envisioning a dark bruise that once marred her skin or the small cut she received from hitting the side of the counter.

As soon as her mother flinched, Rachael's eyes flew up with annoyance, but when she saw the expression on the older woman's face she softened her own. Sharon began to speak, her tone soft and melodic.

"I'm not sure," she cleared her throat, "but I do know that none of it had to do with you or your brother."

She shifted gently, crossing her legs beneath her daughter so she was in fact truly sitting in her mother's lap. As they resettled Sharon for the first time in a long time took in the appearance of her daughter, genuinely looking at her. Her eyes and hair were so much her father but Sharon began to notice things…things that reminded her so much of her self.

The way her lips seemed to twitch when she was deep in thought, or the way her eyebrows bunched together in a frown when she was confused. Yet it was her eyes that seemed to do so much of the silent communication.

Though they were not the same color of hers, they held an understanding or maybe even an acceptance that was familiar. She had seen the same emotion in her bathroom mirror for the last twelve years…maybe they weren't so different after all.

Sharon gently cupped Rachael's cheeks in both of her hands, wiping away the new tears with her thumbs. Making a decision, she gently pulled the younger woman forward, resting her lips on her daughter's forehead, speaking softly against her skin.

"Never blame yourself, I did what I did because I am your mother…its my job to protect you," her voice faltered and she struggled to compose her self.

"And if that meant taking the brunt of the abuse then that was what I was going to do," she sobbed as she felt Rachael begin to shake.

"I don't know what I would have done had he ever tried to hit either of you…or if God forbid…. I just…. couldn't let that happen."

Rachael began crying in earnest now Sharon could feel the tears running downward over her hands. She pulled away from her daughters face so she could see her eyes, so that Rachael could see the truth behind her words. Their eyes locked, watery brown to glassy green.

"And I would do it all over again…you and your brother are my world, without you there would be no point in living."

At that admission Rachael abruptly stopped crying, her eyes widening, she was shocked at her mother to say the least. She looked her mother square in the eye, only seeing the truth in her words.

Rachael licked her lips, "What do you mean…I…I don't understand…"

Sharon cut her off, "I have never told anyone what I'm about to tell you," she paused, "so please keep this between us."

The younger woman nodded slightly, curious as to what would have her mother so secretive.

Sharon inhaled deeply, "The night Andy left…you and Jesse were at friends' houses I believe," she looked at Rachael for conformation; she nodded an affirmative.

"Well I…" she began but stopped short, ashamed of what she had tried to do.

"I felt lost and unwanted," she chuckled to her self, devoid of humor, "I cried for hours until a thought finally occurred to me."

Rachael's eyes were trained intensely on her mother, taking in and processing every word.

Sharon swallowed thickly, "So I turned on the water in the tub and climbed in," her voiced cracked, "and laid there as the water rose above my head."

Rachael's eyes broadened, if that were possible, her face becoming pale as she put together the rest of the story her self. Her mother noticed this and forestalled any further explanation instead she gazed at the younger woman with shame and apprehension, pleading for her daughter to understand.

All of a sudden she felt Rachael's arms wind around her neck, and all she could do was grip her daughter's back tightly. She finally let the tears she had kept at bay fall freely from her eyes.

She felt more than heard Rachael whisper into her hair, "Let us help you," she sniffled loudly.

"Please," she begged desperately.

Sharon gripped her daughter even tighter and shook her head yes, wordlessly agreeing to confide in her children; she felt Rachael's body sag with relief.

Then she felt the younger woman begin to pull away slightly, and she loosened her grip allowing her to recline backwards. The smile she saw on her daughters face reminded her so much of her own, she felt a painfully sweet stab in her chest.

"And when I mean us," Rachael began cautiously, "I mean _ALL_ of us."

She stared directly into her mother's eyes, efficiently letting her know that this was one argument she was willing to fight and maybe even win. Sharon knew what she meant and finally began to feel the wall around her heart start to crumble, she would call Andy later.

Then suddenly Rachael seemed to become shy; there was something else she wanted to ask her mother. Sharon ran her hand gently through her daughter's curly locks coming to rest at the base of her skull.

"What is it Little One?"

She watched, as the wheels in Rachael's brain seemed to turn, thoroughly mulling over the question.

"Will you lay with me?" the younger woman questioned shyly.

Sharon smiled delightedly at her daughter, and laughed slightly, "Of course…I'm too old to sit on the floor anyway."

Rachael chuckled as she stood from her position in her mother's lap, offering her a hand up, which Sharon gratefully accepted. She winced slightly as she put pressure on her sore knee, this did not go unnoticed by her daughter.

"Your knee acting up again?" she questioned.

Sharon chuckled slightly, "Well when you trip on your way into the elevator and break the heel on your shoe…you tend to land on what ever hits the floor first, yes."

Rachael sucked in a breath, "God Mom are you ok?"

"Yes, its just a little swollen," she replied dismissively as she walked around to the right side of Rachael's bed, "Although I do have a feeling ill have to ice it tomorrow."

Her daughter looked at her face and then back down to her legs, as if appraising the situation, not entirely believing the older woman. Sharon proceeded to through the covers back, crawling under the sheets, sighing contently as her head found the pillow.

"Now get in I'm exhausted," she softened the order with a playful wink.

Rachael's exaggerated salute was followed by a giggle as she climbed under the covers, laying her head gently on her mother's chest. She felt the her shift into a comfortable position, their bodies relaxing, before she once again buried her hands deep within her mother's hair. Both content in each other's embrace, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

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><p>Sharon wasn't entirely sure what brought her out of her wonderful dream, which were few and far between in and of them selves. But as she looked around Rachael's room, straining to make out the outlines of the furniture, she heard a faint noise coming from outside. She cautiously slipped out of the bed, and quickly replaced the covers so she wouldn't disturb the sleeping girl curled up below the comforter.<p>

As she descended the stairs she heard it again, this time a little louder. It sounded as if something was scuffing against wood…in fact it reminded her of all the times Jesse had sat on the porch playing his guitar. That's how she would know he was deep in thought…thinking about the piece of music he was currently learning or even what had happened over the course of the day. He would sit on the railing, swinging his feet back and forth while staring out at the yard, not really seeing just thinking.

She crept closer to the front door, cautiously coming to lean against it while peering through the peephole. There, sitting on the rail, staring at the clear night sky was a man that she would know anywhere. He looked so lost; his shoulders slumped forward, still as a corpse.

_Perfect timing_, she though to herself.

She quietly unlocked the door, pulling it gently in toward her body, bristling slightly at the cold winter air. He didn't turn to face her, but she could tell he was aware of her presence; they had a knack for doing that. They could always tell when the other was near; it was almost like an electrical current that flowed between them. She couldn't tell you how many times she knew he was in the room before she even saw him.

Sharon crossed her arms over her chest in a futile attempt to protect herself from the harsh cold of winter, shivering in her thin clothes. She plodded towards the railing soundlessly, stopping just beside the man in question. She propped her hip against the frozen wood, staring silently at his face, willing him to look at her. She saw his eyes dart to the side as if noticing her for the first time, but she knew better.

Sharon cleared her throat, starting to speak…

"I'm sorry," he said simply.

Her eyes widened under her glasses as her breath caught in her throat.

He leaned back and slipped off the railing to lean up against the wood, mirroring her position. She noticed that he had had time to go home and change, idly wondering just how late was it?

He was dressed lightly for such a cold night; a black v-neck sweater over what she believed was a green under shirt. His light wash Levis, so well worn they seemed to be like a second skin, along with his favorite Nikes completed the picture. It was then that she realized she was still in her dress from earlier; she self-consciously looked down at her bare feet.

"For everything," he continued, "and I've done a lot of thinking."

Her head snapped up at that admission, looking at his face with open curiosity. He never looked up from his own feet, content to get this over with it seemed.

"I don't…" she started.

He sighed dejectedly, "Red, will you let me finish?"

She nodded her understanding, trying to ignore the once beloved nickname.

"I never should have let any of this happen," he stopped carefully choosing his next words, not seeing the look of horror on her face.

"I was too involved beforehand, and I never should have pressured you…you were in no state…"

He seemed to be at a loss for words, but Sharon knew Andy would find his footing once again, so she waited patiently.

He cleared his throat again, "Maybe you're right…maybe too much time and water have passed…."

It was then that she saw it fit to intervene; stepping forward she captured his face between her hands, similar to the way she had done with Rachael's earlier. His eyes finally connected with hers, and she saw what she had been missing all these years. Andy searched her eyes, looking for something…although she wasn't quite sure what, but a few moments later he seemed to find what he were searching for.

He slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her gently closer to his body. She let her hands fall from his face to gently fold around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck. Sharon inhaled his scent; instinctually knowing that had been one of the many things she had missed over the years. The feel of his lips on the crown of her head made tears spring to her eyes as she nuzzled deeper into his chest.

Sharon suddenly felt the wind whip her dress around her knees, sending chills through her body.

"Let's finish this conversation inside," she smiled sweetly at him, "we still have a lot to talk about."

Andy slowly released her waist while Sharon slide her hands down his arms to intertwine their fingers, her hands dwarfed by his larger ones. She led him back through the front door, softly closing and securing the locking mechanism. They walked hand in hand through the familiar hallway, weaving in and out of the shadows as they crossed the threshold to the kitchen.

She let go of his hand as she turned slightly in his direction, tossing a silly grin over her shoulder. He was startled by the light overhead as she flicked on the switch.

"Would you like some coffee?" she questioned lightly.

Andy grinned from ear to ear; maybe things were finally looking up for them, "Sounds great."

Sharon turned back around to face the counter, when she felt something sharp prick the bottom of her foot. She let out a whimper of pain, mindful of the sleeping occupant upstairs.

"Damn it!" she cursed under her breath.

He was suddenly at her side, steadying her with a hand on her arm, "You ok?"

"Fine," she winced as she brought her foot up to rest on her knee, "just stepped of some glass."

"Glass?" she could hear the confusion in his voice.

She sighed dramatically, "Before you got here I was making my self something to eat and pouring a glass of milk when I heard Rachael scream."

Andy looked at her as she grabbed the dishtowel from the edge of the sink. She tried in vain to stem the flow of blood, when she looked up to see the concern evident on his face.

"I forgot I dropped the jug of milk…it shattered all over the floor." She explained.

"Is she still having nightmares?"

Sharon hissed in pain as she applied pressure to the cut, "Not as often as she used too, but occasionally yes."

"Here let me help you," he said.

Before she could protest, he had scooped Sharon up in his arms, gently setting her down on her kitchen counter. He tenderly brought her foot up towards his face, looking for any pieces of glass that seemed to be imbedded in the soft underside. She felt her face go hot as a blush washed over her cheeks, desperately trying to keep the hem of her dress from riding up. Reassured that no shards were in the bottom of hr foot, Andy lowered her leg to rest on the counter.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked, voice low and soothing.

Sharon pointed wordlessly towards the cabinet just to the left of the fridge. He followed her finger, opening the door to find a red and white case situated neatly on the lowest shelf. She didn't take her eyes off of him the entire time, watching the play of his muscles beneath the dark sweater. She swallowed heavily when he sat the kit next to her thigh on the counter, his warm palm brushing gently against her exposed skin. He then proceeded to take off his sweater, the green of the undershirt playing nicely with his well-toned arms.

"Now this may sting," he warned opening the lid of the kit.

He produced a few packs of sterile gauze and a small bottle of antiseptic. He carefully unscrewed the lid and poured a generous amount of the liquid onto the cotton, humming quietly to him self. Sharon braced her self as his hand moved slowly up her calf, steadying her leg, while applying the antiseptic to the bottom of her foot. His hand began to rub up and down her appendage, meaning to be soothing but driving her crazy instead.

It unexpectedly hit her as she watched this wonderful man tend to her needs once again. She was so lucky to have him…to be what he wanted, and more importantly that she wanted him. She choked back a sob, reaching her hand out to gently caress the salt and pepper hair she loved so much.

"Andy," she said breathlessly.

His head swiftly rose from his task when the tone of her voice registered in his mind. She gently clutched his hand and pulled him upwards, until he was standing between her legs, his hands cradling her own.

Her eyes seemed to dart back and forth, taking in the love and devotion so openly displayed on his handsome features. Sharon's vision began to cloud, the tears threatening to spill over her lashes. Andy's eyes shifted from the iridescent green orbs that had kept him captivated all these years to the pale pink lips he'd missed just as much. He bent his head forward, hoping that she would meet him half way…pleasantly surprised when she rose to the challenge.

Her lips were as soft and pliant as he remembered, although this kiss was different from the one shared a few nights ago or even the ones shred many years ago. This was a declaration…an acceptance of what was to come and a promise to endure the hardships. It was an end to the previous story as well as the beginning to their next chapter, the life they should have had.

Sharon closed her eyes as she felt Andy's velvety lips cover her own, possessing but not overbearing. Love and acceptance were felt in the kiss…patience for what would happen next. She groaned quietly as she felt his hands slip into her hair, gripping the back of her head passionately, her legs instinctually curling around his hips. As she pulled him closer he deepened the kiss, pouring every emotion he was feeling into that one specific action.

Just a quick as it began, Sharon felt Andy begin to ease his grip and pull back slightly. He placed sweet kisses to the corner of her mouth, both eyelids, and then the tip of her nose. He leaned back gripping her cheeks softly in his hands, a goofy smile plastered across his lips.

Unable to stand it any longer, Sharon let a watery smile bloom across her face, sucking in a deep breath to compose her self. Then she let three little words slip from her tongue.

"I love you," she whispered brokenly.

The grin on his face said it all; this was right…being here with him was right…it felt natural.

Andy pulled Sharon in for another tight embrace whispering desperately into her hair, his voice vibrating against her ear.

"Finally...I missed you Red."

**_The End._**

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><p><strong><em>PS: Stay tuned for more stories...I have a few in the works as we speak :)<em>**


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